


keep me where the light is

by hemakeshimstrongx



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Admiration for Louis, Coping with death several years later, Doctor Louis, Engaged Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Established Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Everybody loves harry, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Fluff, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Heartache, Kid Fic, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of Death, No Smut, Photographer Harry, Wedding Planning, and thats it thats the fic, and they love each other, everybody loves louis, harry and louis are so happy, just a smidge, like... idk what else to tag without giving away plot?, lots of happy, the details of that are slim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 13:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemakeshimstrongx/pseuds/hemakeshimstrongx
Summary: harry styles and louis tomlinson aren't supposed to fall in love, but they do. once that happens, everything else falls into place.the epilogue turned full-length sequel to 'your mess is mine'. the end to harry and louis' love story.for jay, as they always will be.





	keep me where the light is

**Author's Note:**

> sooo when i started writing the epilogue i thought it was gonna be short and sweet but. here we are, 27k words and nearly 3 months later. this was aptly titled "CONGENITAL HEART DEFECT EPILOGUE" in my drive for said 3 months, which has been open in safari for weeks on end.  
> this is my baby, my pride and joy, the one thing i've put solid time into. treat her kindly. 
> 
>  
> 
> Link to Your Mess Is Mine!
> 
>  
> 
> like last time, i know nothing about medicine. any medical details in this sequel are from google or grey's anatomy.

**EIGHT MONTHS BEFORE.**

 

“Louis.” Harry breathes out. There’s fireworks popping off in the distance but Louis feels like they’re right in his chest. “What are you doing?”

“C’mon, baby, you must have seen this one coming,” Louis laughs, trying to keep his voice steady even though it doesn’t sound like it’s working very well. “Are you going to let me do my spiel or are you going to keep whispering my name in disbelief?” 

“No, no. Talk, I wanna hear your spiel,” Harry says quickly, stumbling over his words. He feels like a fucking idiot, but he  _ wants  _ this. 

“Ever since the moment I met you in that exam room I knew that there was no stopping myself from falling in love with you. Once we got it, we got it  _ good,  _ we were on the same page about literally everything. Everything happened so quickly once we got it together and I never, not for one second, doubted anything about you. I want to marry you, Harry, I want to spend forever with you and with Grace. I want a life with you. I’ve waited thirty-two fucking years for something to feel this right and I feel it with you. So, finally, Styles, will you marry me?” 

“Of  _ course  _ I’ll marry you, shit  _ Louis!”  _ Harry exclaims, dragging Louis up onto his feet and kissing him before Louis even gets the chance to put the ring on his finger. “We have to take you to the shop and pick out a ring for you, one that’s simple and pretty and suits you.” 

“We will, my love,” Louis whispers, taking Harry’s hand and finally sliding the ring onto his finger, right up alongside his other ones. 

“Oh, Louis, it’s beautiful.” Harry exhales, sitting down again in the chair Louis’ pulled out for him. “Where did you get it? And when?” 

“In that little jewelry store in the mall the day the three of us went.” 

“We haven’t been there in forever. Not since— we had that conversation. And then we went to the mall and Grace ran into her friends, that day?” Harry asks, look of pure shock on his face. 

“Yeah. And we talked about having kids and you went to the food court to get pretzels and then I went in and bought it. I was going to wait a little longer, but… this felt right,” Louis admits. He breaks out into a grin, looking all heartfelt and proud. Harry  _ loves  _ him so fucking much. They’re getting  _ married. _

“It  _ is  _ right, it’s so right it’s fucking insane. I—” Harry gets cut off when his phone starts ringing. “Shit, it’s probably Grace calling to ring in the new year.” 

Harry talks to her for a few minutes, not wanting to stay on the phone with her for long while he’s out at dinner with Louis and while Grace is at her friend’s house. It’s their first time spending New Years apart in twelve years, but Harry didn’t feel uneasy about it. Louis has a tendency to make the situation feel a lot less scary. “Sorry,” Harry apologizes, sliding his phone back in his pocket and shooting Louis an apologetic glance. 

“It’s alright, love.” Louis smiles warmly. “Are you almost ready to get out of here? I have a feeling we’re beginning to overstay our welcome. The waiter’s been popping in a hell of a lot more often.”

“Yeah, I wanna get home.”  _ Home _ , to their shared living quarters, to their house, where they both live, together and in love. “You’re driving. I’ve had too much to drink.” 

Louis laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a lightweight.” 

Harry sticks one more bite of chocolate cake in his mouth before turning to look for their waiter. “I’m not a lightweight. These drinks were just very rummy. I’ve got the check tonight.”

“H, you’re not paying. I took you out to dinner, this was my proposal. If you conduct your own,  _ then  _ you can pay for the meal,” Louis replies, taking the checkbook from the waiter before Harry can even try to. Harry loves him so fucking much. 

“I will do that, then, if that’s the only way I can pay for meals.” Harry says confidently. Even then, if Harry brought Louis out to a nice fancy dinner and proposed back (which. Is that even a thing? Harry’s about to make it a thing) Louis would still figure out a way to pay for the meal. All he has to do is look at Harry, really, and Harry’ll melt and give into anything Louis wants. 

Once they’re in the car (Louis driving whether Harry’s drunk or not because, again, his proposal), the reality of what just happened hits Harry. Hard. “You really just proposed to me,” he says softly, staring at the band on his ring finger. That finger had remained open for so long, waiting for that special ring to slide onto it. Now it’s finally taken up and Harry can hardly handle it. 

“I really did. You didn’t mention it to Grace when she called before,” Louis points out. Harry figured he’d say something about that; and he  _ did  _ strongly consider blurting it out to Grace the moment she picked up the phone. 

“I decided it’s something that should be done in person. Not on New Years while she’s at her friends house and I’m out to dinner with you and drunk off rummy drinks.” 

“Should I propose to you again tomorrow, when you’re sober?” Louis asks. Harry knows he’s kidding, but he also knows that he’d say yes to  _ anything  _ Louis asked him; drunk or sober. Harry shakes his head in reply. “I’d propose to you everyday of the fucking week, Styles.” 

 

********

 

“I want to be Tomlinson.” Harry whispers, late one night. “Grace can stay Styles, changing her name is far too complicated. But I want to be Tomlinson. And our kids can be Tomlinson or they can be Tomlinson-Styles, but  _ I  _ want your last name.” 

“You still haven’t even told Grace or your mum that I proposed. How’re we going to get married if you haven’t told your family?” Louis asks, kissing Harry’s shoulder. 

“I’m going to tell them. I’m just waiting for the right time, that’s all.” Harry replies. It’s the truth, and also, he’s a little bit afraid. He’s afraid of what they’re going to say — especially of what  _ Grace  _ is going to say. “Can you acknowledge my desire to be a Tomlinson?”

Louis laughs, running fingers through Harry’s hair. “I want you to be a Tomlinson, too. Whatever you want, baby, you can have.” 

Harry smiles, sitting up abruptly. “I’m just gonna go check on Grace.” 

“H, what? It’s the middle of the night and she’s fine—” 

Harry kisses him on the mouth, smiling widely and making it a little inconvenient to kiss him properly. Louis’ little teeth bite gently on Harry’s bottom lip and that snaps Harry out of his giggling trance, finally kissing Louis properly. He pulls away after too long but also not long enough. “I’m going to check on Grace. My father senses are tingling.” 

Louis laughs, pinching Harry’s butt as he turns around. Harry heads into Grace’s room, finding her laying on her side, eyes wide open and breathing steady. She sits up immediately upon seeing her father come into the room. “Hey, G. You doing alright?” 

“Yeah, just trying to fall asleep. Are  _ you _ alright?” 

“I’m fine. Can’t really fall asleep either. I do have something to tell you, though, if you’re up for talking.” Harry says, sitting on the edge of her bed. 

“I  _ do  _ have school in the morning. This is a late night for me, I dunno if I’ll be able to wake up in the morning,” Grace drones, big smile on her face. Harry laughs and slides the ring off of his finger where it’d been nestled ever since him and Louis went to bed. He doesn’t put it on unless no one else is around because he hasn’t been ready to give up the secret quite yet. He’s liked having something just between them, a secret, a moment that no one else could touch or judge. 

“We’ll see about that when morning comes. Listen, Louis gave me this a few weeks ago,” he says, suddenly very nervous to tell her this. He hands her the ring, and Grace looks at it closely. 

“Is this an engagement ring?” she asks, and Harry nods. Grace hands it back to him. “So you’re getting married, then?” 

“Yeah, G. Unless you have any opposition to it, then we can talk about it, but we’re getting married,” Harry tells her, swallowing hard. Grace looks at him carefully, then breaks out into an impossibly huge grin and nearly tackles Harry off the bed in a hug. 

She whispers  _ thank you  _ over and over again and Harry thinks that he might start fucking crying. He wasn’t expecting her to react like this. Harry isn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t his own daughter near-tears and  _ thanking him  _ for getting engaged to her heart surgeon. 

“H, I’ve— oh, shit. Sorry, love. Everything okay?” Louis says suddenly, seeming to manifest himself at Grace’s bedside. “I just got paged into the hospital, I’m not sure when I’ll be back, if at all, so you don’t have to wait up.” 

Grace draws back from her father’s shoulder and looks up at Louis with wide, tear-filled eyes. “You’re getting married? You’re gonna be my dad?” 

Louis’ eyes go wide. He looks between Harry and Grace with wide eyes, and Harry nods. “Uh, yeah, love. I’ve really got to run now, but we can talk more about it when I’m home tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Grace gets up suddenly, wrapping her skinny arms around Louis’ torso in what looks to be a rather tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I hope everything okay is at work.” 

Louis looks down at Harry again, presses a kiss to his forehead, and then he’s gone. “Are you gonna make fun of me if I ask to sleep in your bed?” Grace asks, yawning. 

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Course not, bug. Come on, then.” 

She sprawls out in her bed and beckons Harry to carry her to his room, which he complies to with little fight. Harry can’t even remember the last time Grace asked to sleep in his bed; she was probably young and sick or waking up from a bad dream about her mum. He’s mostly shocked by the fact that she asked so outright, at her age and at her state of maturity (which is so high Harry can hardly believe it). She nestles in on his side of the bed while Harry takes Louis’. Harry falls asleep to the sounds of his endlessly happy daughter breathing next to him and the scent of Louis’ side of the bed engulfing him. 

Harry wakes up in the morning to his alarm going off. He fumbles over Grace for it, quickly shutting the song off and looking down at her. Grace is unfazed, still tucked beneath the covers and sleeping peacefully. He hasn’t decided if he’ll let her skip school, but knows that it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he let her play hookey just one day. Louis might want to be the ‘cool dad’ but Harry can’t _completely_ uncool. 

Harry gets out of bed, pausing before going into the bathroom and pulling the blankets up further on Grace’s body. He showers quickly, not wanting to disturb Grace too much with the noise. Before he leaves the bedroom, he slides the engagement ring onto his finger. 

He startles just a bit when he gets to the bottom of the stairs – Louis is asleep on the living room couch. Harry furrows his eyebrows, going over and placing a gentle hand on Louis’ shoulder. 

“Mhm.” Louis groans, stretching his legs out and turning his face up towards Harry. “What time’s it?”

“It’s barely seven, love. Why are you sleeping on the couch?” 

Louis groans again, turning his face back into the couch pillow and pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Just got home, like, an hour ago. Figured Grace was still in your bed ’nd didn’t want to bother you.” 

Harry sticks his bottom lip out and makes a sympathetic sound, running gentle fingertips over Louis’ cheek. “She is, but you should go lay there now. Do you have to go back to the hospital?” 

“Stop askin’ me so many questions.” Louis says, cracking one eye open. “Mhm. You forgot your shirt upstairs, then?” 

Harry laughs softly. “I was just running down for coffee. I’m going to have to wake G up for school.” 

“Let her skip,” Louis murmurs, rolling on his other side. “She deserves a day.” 

Harry sighs, combing his fingers through Louis’ hair one last time before standing up straight. “Come cuddle with me,” Louis says suddenly, voice more clear and awake and demanding than it’d sounded since Harry started talking to him.

Louis lets Harry slide in on the couch, putting his head in Harry’s lap and sighing happily. Louis falls right back asleep, and Harry finds himself doing the same until he hears Grace making her way downstairs. She stops just as abruptly as her father had upon seeing the situation on the couch. 

“He’s home.” she says, sitting on the ottoman. “When?” 

“Around six, apparently. He didn’t want to bother you in the bed. You don’t have to go to school today, by the way. It’s a Friday, they can’t miss you that much.” Harry tells her, twisting a finger in Louis’ hair. “Do you want breakfast?” 

She glances at the clock; it’s just after eight. “Yeah, kind of. But I can just get cereal or something.” 

Louis shakes his head suddenly, protesting what Grace has just said. “Make breakfast,” he mumbles. “Waffles, if possible.” Then he slides his head off of Harry’s thighs and onto the couch instead. 

Grace breaks out into a grin. “Perfect. Waffles, then?” 

Harry shakes his head in disbelief at what just happened, grabs Louis’ sweatshirt that he left at the end of the couch yesterday, and pulls it on over his head. It fits him perfectly, because it’s a little big on Louis. He left it on the edge of the couch when they were watching Bake Off and then started making out and at some point Louis lost his sweatshirt. Harry’s come to learn that Louis leaves things  _ everywhere _ , but he’s used to it after having to pick up after Grace for her whole life. 

He makes waffles and starts a kettle because if Louis’ planning on remaining conscious, he’ll want some tea. Grace watches him make and serve breakfast, sitting at the island and eating while Harry brings a plate and mug to the couch. 

“Here, Lou, I brought you waffles. And a cuppa.” 

Louis props himself up on one elbow, rubbing his face. “Wow, I get to eat it on the couch?” 

Harry rolls his eyes at the snarky comment, but nods his head anyway. “What time do you have to go back in?” 

“Ten. I want to take a shower first. I have a surgery at eleven, but I should be home around dinnertime, so count me in for that.” Louis says around a mouthful of waffle, looking at Harry with tired eyes. “Had a guy’s artery collapse last night, he needed surgery, that’s why I had to run out. He’d been in a car accident.” 

“I wasn’t going to ask.” Harry admits. “Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that, and I knew where you were going, so the why didn’t really matter.” 

“How’s Grace?” Louis asks. 

“She’s great. I’m letting her skip school, so. She’s really fantastic. And she didn’t say much else about the engagement thing, since I know that’s going to be your next question.” 

Louis laughs softly, taking the cup of tea from Harry’s hands and taking a long sip, wincing bit as the hot liquid goes down. “That was going to be my next question. She didn’t say  _ much else,  _ but what did she say to begin with?” 

Harry shrugs, sitting back against the couch. “She didn’t seem all that bothered by it. She said thank you, which was kind of weird. Then she asked to sleep in my bed and that was it. We can talk about it at dinner tonight, if you’d like.” 

Louis nods eagerly, putting his plate on the coffee table even though it still has some edible pieces of waffle left. “I think we should. She said thank you to me too, which was heartwarming. But we should still probably, like, discuss it, at least a little bit. She sleep on my side of the bed?” 

“No, course not. I did. As if I’d let anyone else take your side.” Harry scoffs. “I’ll clean up breakfast, you can go get ready to go back into the hospital.”

Louis leans forward and kisses him gently, smiling. “I’m gonna hop in the shower, change, and then come back down.” 

“Okay,” Harry whispers, leaning forward for another kiss, which Louis grants him. “We’ll both be here.” 

Louis heads upstairs and Harry goes to the kitchen, where Grace is still sitting at the kitchen table in front of her plate, scrolling through her phone. “Hey, bug. You’re really gonna skip out on school today?” 

Grace rolls her eyes, putting her phone down and looking up at her father. “You already told me it was okay. So, yes, I’m okay with it.” 

“What do you think you’ll want to do for dinner?” Harry stares into the open fridge, which is looking a little bare. Maybe he and Grace will go shopping today, he makes a mental note. 

“Can we make pizzas? We haven’t done that in forever. Will Louis be home for dinner?” 

“Yeah, we should probably run to the store and do some shopping, though. And, yes, he should be. Why?”

“Just asking, dad. What time d’you think we should go to the store?”

“We can go after Louis leaves for work and as soon as you’re ready, sound good?” He asks, and Grace nods. She doesn’t move from the table, instead picking her phone up again and starting to scroll. 

Harry loads the dishwasher in lieu of hand-washing the dishes and starts the cycle, knowing that they’ll need dishes tonight if they’re making pizzas. Louis comes down while Harry’s wiping down the counter, dressed in tight black jeans and a nice collared shirt. “Morning,” he says, smile on his face. “Morning, Grace.”

Grace hums in reply, standing up from the table without looking up from her phone. She leaves Harry and Louis in the kitchen alone, probably doing it on purpose. Louis uses the alone time to kiss Harry slowly, letting Harry put his hands on his waist and really, fully appreciate Louis’ outfit. 

“I like this look on you,” Harry murmurs, letting his hands venture for Louis’ arse. 

Louis laughs when he feels Harry’s hands palming him, and draws back. “What’s that?” 

“Mhmm… professionalism.” Harry grins, kissing along Louis’ jaw. “Since you’ll be home for dinner, d’you think we can fit a little… us time into the schedule?” 

Louis laughs again, louder than last time. “I could try to fit you in, Styles. I should really get going now, though. Whatever your plans for dinner are, I’m game. I’ll be home a little after five, if everything works out in my favor.” 

“Okay, sounds good. I love you.” 

“Love you too,” Louis pecks him gently one more time. Then Harry makes him a to-go cup of coffee and kisses him one more time before Louis goes out the door, leaving him and Grace all alone. 

 

Grace picks out almost everything at the store. It’s more junk food than Harry would have normally liked to purchase, but lately Louis and Grace have been bonding over their shared love of Reese’s peanut butter cups and large, complex sundaes, so Harry will allow it. Also, Louis would probably pitch a fit if he opened the cabinet one morning and his shitty cereals weren’t there and Harry lives to keep him happy. 

“We need those,” Grace says, pointing to the coco puffs. “Louis’ favorite.” 

Harry nods, grabbing the box from the shelf and checking the expiry date before putting it in the shopping cart. “Great catch, love. We’re just about done in here. Is there anything else you need?” 

Grace shakes her head. “Nah, I think we’re good to go now. D’you think we could watch a movie tonight or something?” 

“Sure, love. Anything particular in mind?” Harry asks. Grace shakes her head and says that she’ll think about it, and that maybe they can ask Louis’ opinion when he gets home. Harry tells her they can talk about it over dinner, and that’s the end of the discussion. 

 

Louis gets home at a quarter to six, right as Harry’s starting to put dinner on the table. “Hi, love. Sorry I’m a little late.” Louis breathes, leaving his messenger bag on one of the island chairs and leaning over to kiss Harry on the cheek. “Anything I can do?” 

“It’s alright, you’re not late until we’re actually sitting down eating dinner. And, no, nothing you can do. What do you want to drink?” 

“Uh, wine sound acceptable?” 

“With homemade pizzas? Typically, no, but y’can have whatever you like.” Harry smiles, grabbing a wine glass from the cabinet. “Long day?” 

Louis leans against the counter, groaning softly. “Yeah. But I’m on call tomorrow. As long as nothing comes up, I should be here.”

They sit down for dinner, Grace silent about the whole engagement thing until Harry prompts her to speak about it. “You’re okay with it, G?” 

“We really don’t have to talk about it, dad.” Grace says, but there’s a small smile creeping onto her face and that’s how he knows that she’s alright with it. 

“Of course we do. That’s how we do things, me and you. We talk about them,” Harry replies, glancing up at Louis, who has already downed his glass of wine. 

“Yes, I’m alright with it. I’m actually really happy about it.” Grace admits, finally looking up from her plate and over at Louis. “I like the idea of, you know, having two dads.” 

Louis smiles, and Harry lets him take the response to this one. “I’m glad, Grace. Really glad that you think that. Because, like, I was your surgeon and the whole situation has been a little unorthodox straight out the gate. And I love your dad, and I care about you, and I’m just… I don’t know what I’m saying.” 

“And you only had one glass of wine.” Grace smirks, looking over at her father. “You’re marrying a lightweight, you know.” 

Harry and Louis both laugh, and that’s how dinner goes. 

  
  


**SIX MONTHS BEFORE.**

 

“Dad?” Grace asks, knocking on the door. Louis looks up at Harry, pausing what he’s doing. Harry uses his bare foot to Louis’ stomach to push him away. “I have a bit of an issue.” 

Harry’s eyebrows furrow, and he completely disregards Louis in favor of getting up to open the door. “An issue? What kind of issue?” 

“A…” Grace glances behind him at Louis, then lowers her voice. “A bodily problem.” 

Louis hears her anyway, and he thinks he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He knows Harry’s mind goes straight to being concerned about her heart, but Louis has a hunch as to what Grace means. “A  _ bodily problem?  _ Are you feeling alright? Your heart?” 

“ _ Dad.”  _ she says, exasperated. “You can’t be serious.” 

Louis sits up, reaching for his shirt that got thrown somewhere on the floor when they’d begun fooling around. “I got my period, dad.” Grace says, point blank, right there, and he can almost hear Harry’s brain exploding, even from across the room. “And I already raided the bathroom and you don’t have anything here — which is unsurprising — and I already ruined my pajama pants and I just.” Grace pauses, taking a deep breath. “Need you to go to the store. I know it’s late, but please.”

Harry slams the door in his daughter’s face, spins around, and looks at Louis with wide eyes. “Did you just hear that?” 

“I can handle it, lovely. I’ll run out.” Louis says, already sliding his shoes on. 

“What? Louis, no—” 

“Unless you  _ really  _ don’t want me it, because boundaries and everything.” Louis says, but he keeps on moving to grab his jacket. “But I can run out, H.” 

“No, no. You probably should, because I might crash the car or something because I just heard my daughter say that she got her period and I think I need to lay down.” 

Louis laughs softly, kissing Harry’s head. “I’ll be right back. Once you’ve got your wits back, cold water and soap should do the job of getting any blood out of anything.” 

Louis knows these things because he’s a doctor, and because he grew up with his mother and sisters and he knows this stuff. He buys pads and tampons, because he’s not sure which Grace will prefer. His sisters were always a toss up, so he always got both to be safe. He makes his way back with the items, finding Harry in the hall bathroom washing the pants like Louis instructed him to. 

“Can you give them to her? Harry asks, not even looking over at him, like he could sense Louis standing in the doorway. “I want to finish this up but I don’t want her to wait.” 

Louis nods. “I can. And then at some point you should probably talk to her. Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything else, and Louis shows himself to Grace’s room. He knocks gently and waits for her goahead before opening the door. “Here, love. Got you these. Not really sure which one you’ll prefer, nor do I know a lot about either one. Now’s when I’m sure you wish your mum was around, huh?” 

Grace nods, taking the plastic bag from him without even looking at it. “You knew a lot about what to do. Is that because of your sisters?” 

“Yeah. It was really just us a lot of the time. Their dad worked and so did our mum — she was a nurse — and I was the one home a lot of the time. And, you know, I’m a doctor.” 

“You’re a heart surgeon, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“We all go through med school, love. It was mainly the sisters thing, though, I think. I know you have your Aunt Gemma, and I know you haven’t even met my sisters yet, but if you think that’s something you’d want, eventually — like, a role model, or what have you — any of them would be more than willing to talk to you. Not just about, you know,  _ this _ . About anything.” Louis offers, feeling more awkward the more he explains it. But Grace finally looks up at him, tears in her pretty green eyes. 

“Yeah, I think… I think I would. At some point, maybe.” She nods. “Is dad out of the bathroom yet?” 

“Probably. I’ll go kick him out for you if he’s not. You should try to get some sleep, once you’re ready.” Louis tells her. Grace nods one final time before Louis leaves her alone. Harry’s not in the bathroom anymore, so he hollers that to Grace before going into their bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

“H?” he calls softly, knocking on the closed door to the master suite. “I talked to Grace, she’s doing alright. You should talk to her, maybe tomorrow, though.” 

The door clicks, Harry unlocking it. Louis takes that as a sign to walk in. Harry’s sitting on the floor, his back pressed to the vanity and his head in his hands. “Oh, my love.” Louis breathes, sitting down next to him and wrapping an arm around him. Harry rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, his hands falling into his lap. “It’s not the end of the world, you know. And you must have known it was coming.” 

“Louis, don’t give me that,” Harry groans. “You’re sure Grace is okay?” 

“Yeah, baby, she’s fine. Everyone’s handling it better than you are.” 

Harry laughs, but it sounds a little pained. Louis smiles, kissing the top of his head. “I just wish her mum was here. I wasn’t ready for this.” 

“No one ever is ready for this,” Louis says. “Trust me, I work with families all the time. This happens all the time. It’s a part of life.” 

“I should probably talk to her, right?” Harry asks, picking his head up and sitting up straight. “It’s not that late yet. I could talk to her now.” 

“I’d wait until the morning if I were you. She should get some sleep, especially with school tomorrow. I think you should trust me for now when I tell you that she’s fine. It’s late and you have work, and I have work, and G has school. Lets get to bed, does that sound good?”

Harry nods, but slumps back against the cabinet. Louis pushes himself up first, offering his hands to Harry to help him up. When Harry gets to his feet, he wraps Louis in a tight hug. “Thank you. For being so good with her and being there for me,” he whispers. 

Louis draws his head out of Harry’s chest and kisses him gently. Harry threads his hand in the back of Louis’ hair, holding him there for another, deeper kiss. Louis reaches up and cups his cheek, Harry breathing deeply in satisfaction. “You’re cute when you’re protective,” Harry murmurs, his words muffled by Louis’ mouth still pressed against his own. 

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” Louis says in reply, then takes control of the kiss. His hand moves to Harry’s hair, and tugs. Harry tilts his head, letting Louis kiss him more thoroughly, letting him mouth at his jaw and kiss his neck. “Is it weird that I kind of want to fuck now?” 

“It’ll get my mind off Grace,” Harry says thoughtfully, gasping when Louis kisses his neck. 

“Glad to know that having sex with me is just something you do to get your mind off other things,” Louis says teasingly, palming Harry through his pajama bottoms. 

Harry laughs. “It’s more than that, you know it. Now take me to bed.” 

 

**FIVE MONTHS BEFORE.**

 

“Lou, come look at this!” Harry calls, sitting back in Louis’ desk chair and staring at the computer in front of him. “I think I have everything picked and budgeted out.” 

“Have you picked a date yet?” Louis asks, sticking his head in the door. “Or are you still stuck on the fifteenth of August?” 

“I think that’s a fitting date. Now would you come look at this, pretty please?” Harry sticks his bottom lip out, begging just the slightest. Sometimes Louis needs a little sweet talk, and Harry’s not afraid to give it. 

Louis comes in, standing behind Harry. “This is how much it’s gonna cost? Seriously?” 

Harry looks from the laptop screen to Louis, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “It’s our wedding, Lou. And you told me I could have whatever I wanted.” 

“I know! And I meant it, you still can! But that’s just… a lot of money. And I’m saying that as a surgeon, I make  _ good  _ money! I’m having chest constrictions just looking at this, baby. I think my wallet’s having a heart attack,” Louis says, hand over the back pocket in his jeans where he keeps his wallet. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You’re so overdramatic. But if you’re having  _ serious  _ doubts about it then I guess we could do away with the amount of flowers or something–”

“No!” Louis says quickly, stopping Harry’s hand from reaching for the mousepad. “We can swing it, love. That number just caught me off guard, that’s all.” 

Harry looks up at him, still pouting a little bit. “So if we can swing  _ that _ , how do you feel about a box of butterflies?” 

Later that night, Louis is laying on the couch with the computer resting on his chest as he reads through the things Harry has put in their wedding gift registry. “Lou,” Harry says suddenly, rubbing his socked foot along Louis’ calf.

“Baby,” Louis grunts, not looking up from the complex-looking knife set that Harry’s added to the registry. He picks up his leg and traps Harry’s foot between his legs, stopping him from moving it so much. 

“Do you want to write our own vows?”

Louis tilts the laptop screen down to look at him. “Do  _ you _ ?”

Harry shrugs, suddenly looking a bit bashful. Louis sits up straight, keeping Harry’s foot locked between his legs. “I think I’d like to. But we don’t, like, have to. You’re a surgeon and you’re busy and you don’t want to spend all that time getting all sappy—” 

“First of all,” Louis interjects, shaking his head, “I’m a surgeon but there’s more than enough time before the wedding for me to write something. Second of all, getting sappy over you is something that comes naturally. I might as well channel it into some vows.” 

Harry visibly relaxes, reaching for Louis’ hand and squeezing gently. “Okay, good. Because I might have already started writing mine the other night.” 

Louis laughs, leaning and putting the laptop on the coffee table with his free hand. He tugs Harry across the couch, letting both of them fall into the cushions, Harry’s head on his chest. “The other night? Was this pre or post-coitus?” 

“Post. You were sleeping and y’just looked so cute, I wanted to write something about it. I dunno if I’ll read that one, it’s a very rough draft. Is there anything good on tonight?” 

Louis stretches for the remote, just barely getting it without jostling Harry off him, and marvels at Harry’s ability to jump from one topic to another. Grace is just like him; she bounces between subjects like she’s on a vocal trampoline and Harry does the exact same thing. Neither one of them can stay talking about the same thing for too long, and they don’t feel weird when they completely derail from one topic in favor of another one. 

“Bake Off is always on, but I’m sure we’ve seen that one a dozen times.” Louis says, continuing to flip through channels. “Grey’s Anatomy reruns… The X Factor?” 

Harry nods, dropping a kiss to Louis’ chest and seeming to sink even further into him. “Let’s watch the X Factor. Haven’t seen it in awhile, so we might be a little bit confused at first.” 

“Eh, it’s alright. D’you have to work tomorrow?” Louis asks, using his fingernails to scratch lightly over Harry’s bicep. 

“Yeah. I really think Liam and I will be able to get this photography studio off the ground. It’s great that I met him at that wedding. He’s all business and I’m all photography so it really works out,” Harry says enthusiastically. Louis’ sure it takes everything Harry has in him to stop himself from jumping up and talking about it as passionately as Louis knows he feels about it. 

Louis smiles, tracing his fingertips over the song lyrics on Harry’s bicep. “Proud of you, baby.” 

“Too bad I’m not some hot-shot surgeon, like someone I know.” Harry teases, prodding at Louis’ ribcage. “Listen, can I suggest something that could get a little tedious?” 

Whatever the hell  _ that  _ means, it makes Louis a little nervous. But he hums and nods in reply. “A joint bank account. It’s, like, I was reading an article earlier today about… situations like this and it suggested that be one of the things to discuss before you get married.” 

“Do you get all of your big life advice from online articles?” 

“Maybe. But that’s beside the point. I think we should do that. Like, a savings account.” 

“Then that means I’m going to be helping you pay bills. A few months ago me helping you pay for shit was off the table. You didn’t like the idea of it.” Louis replies. Harry sits up, looking down at Louis. “But now you want a joint bank account? One where I’d deposit my checks and you’d deposit yours and all our money would be in there, mixed together.” 

“We could get matchy-matchy cards and I think watching you look over finances would be cute. Watching you work is hot. I’m sure watching you pay bills would _really_ be a thing for me,” Harry says, his dimple popping out when he puts on his really-fucking-hot half-smile that drives Louis nuts. 

“You just wanna be a fucking housewife,” Louis laughs, poking Harry in the ribs with his foot. “We can make a joint account if that’s what you want, baby.” 

“I do wanna be a housewife. And I want you to be my househusband.” 

Louis laughs again, grabbing Harry by the hand and pulling him back on top of him. Harry slots himself between Louis’ legs, resting his forearms on either side of Louis’ head. He pecks Louis once, gently, and smiles. “You’re ridiculous. I’m not really cut out to be a househusband, but I’d love to be yours.” 

Harry kisses him again, soft and sweet. “You’re the sweetest. Best househusband ever. Lets get that joint account as soon as possible so you can put your glasses on and use a calculator.” 

“Oh, my God,” Louis laughs. “You’re so… I love you.” 

Harry grabs the remote from the arm of the couch and turns the volume down before kissing Louis again, deeper than before. They do that for awhile, making out on Harry’s couch while Simon Cowell rambles on in the background. It goes like this — tongues in mouths and hands under tee shirts — until Grace comes bounding down the stairs.

“I could hear the TV from— oh. Right.” she stops dead in her tracks. “Well, I’m interested in watching this, so. Could you move your feet?” 

Harry sits bolt upright, potentially puncturing Louis’ lung in the process, and looks over at Grace. “You’re still up?” 

“Uh, yes?” Grace glances at the clock before looking back at her father. “It’s not bedtime yet and I’ve finished all my homework. I could hear the TV and thought I’d come down and watch for a bit,” she explains, moving Louis’ feet out of the way herself before sitting down. 

He sits up too, looking awkwardly between Harry – who’s still wide-eyed – and Grace. “You two can keep watching, I’ve actually got to do some research for a case, so I’m gonna head upstairs and see what I can find,” he says, knowing that he  _ sounds  _ awkward but not knowing what to do about it. 

Harry puts a hand on his arm, trying to stop him from leaving, but Louis shakes his head. “Trust me, H. It’ll be a hell of a lot more awkward if the three of us keep sitting here together. I’ll be upstairs.” 

He retreats, because Louis’ good at that. He grabs his laptop from the office and even puts his glasses on once he’s in bed, because he has to at least attempt to make it seem like he really had work to do. Louis fucks around on the computer — aggressively not doing anything for work — until Harry comes in and shuts the door. 

“G go to bed?” Louis asks, shutting his computer. 

“Yeah.” Harry breathes out. “M’gonna wash up and then come to bed, I’m wiped.”

Louis joins him in the bathroom to brush his own teeth, side by side with Harry at the sink. Harry tries to smile at him, clearly still acting a little weird, but toothpaste dribbles down his chin and Louis laughs, wiping it away before putting his toothbrush away. “You okay?” Louis asks finally, leaning against the counter. 

“Yeah, fine. Just tired.” 

“You’re all fucked up because Grace walked downstairs while we were in the middle of something, aren’t you?” he smirks, and Harry rolls his eyes. “She didn’t seem that bothered by it, love. I think you just worry about being this prim and perfect image for her.” 

“I  _ do _ .” Harry admits, sulking. “It’s, like, strange when she sees a side of me other than her normal dad.” 

“I think it’s important that she see those other sides. You’re her dad, a human, not some godlike figurehead that needs to save face. Teaching her the facts of life would be better than sheltering her,” Louis tells him. Harry shrugs, opening the bathroom door and heading back out into the bedroom. 

“I know. It’s just weird. I wasn’t ready for her to walk in on me making out with my boyfriend,” Harry gets into bed and lays right down, pulling the blanket up to his neck. 

“Ugh, I’m  _ offended _ , Styles. I’m your  _ fiancé.  _ Aren’t I?” 

Harry turns his face up, making a kissy motion as Louis gets in bed next to him. “Of course. You’re more than a lover. More than a boyfriend.” 

Louis rolls his eyes, but leans in and kisses him regardless of how dumb Harry’s being. “Love you,” he whispers, kissing Harry again before he has the chance to answer.

Harry hums into it, drumming his fingers against the back of Louis’ neck before tangling them in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Love you too,” Harry murmurs, kissing Louis’ left cheek, then his right before starting to kiss his way down Louis’ neck. “You’re so smart and understanding. Always know just what to say.” 

Louis smiles, letting Harry work his way down. “I’m glad. Just want to help you in any way I can. Help Grace in any way I can.” 

“You handled my daughter getting her first period better than I did. You handled my daughter catching us making out on the couch better than I did. You know just what to say when I’m freaking out or when I’m stressed or when I’m anything other than myself.” Harry rambles, then he shuts up to suck a mark on Louis’ neck. 

“Mhm, baby,” Louis groans, reaching behind Harry’s back to start pulling his shirt up. “You’re gonna get us riled up.” 

“That wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?” Harry hums, moving onto another spot. “I think we should get tattoos.” 

“You like saying big things when you’ve got me in compromising positions, don’t you?” 

Harry laughs, warm air fanning over Louis’ neck. “I think we should. I always thought I’d save my back for my family, but twelve years in and I never got around to getting a tattoo for Grace. I’d get one for you, too. Maybe the next day you have off we can go?” Harry looks up at Louis, his eyes shining bright, bright, bright. 

“I dunno where I’d get one. I haven’t really thought much about it.” Louis admits, tangling his fingers in Harry’s hair. 

Harry sits up, blanket falling off of his shoulders as he pushes Louis onto his stomach. He hikes Louis’ tee shirt up his back and pushes it over his head. “What the hell are you doing?” Louis asks, laughing a little. 

“We can do yours on your back too. A nice tree or, like, a heart.” Harry says, poking Louis’ left shoulder blade. 

“I’d get an  _ H. _ ” Louis says softly. “Maybe with an anchor or something. And I’d get Grace’s right there too.” 

Harry’s fingers stop moving suddenly, his breath sounding like it’s gotten caught in his throat. “ _ Louis.  _ You said you hadn’t thought about it.” 

“Haven’t thought  _ much  _ about it.” Louis corrects. “And then, you know, whatever… other kids happen to work their way into our life, then I’ll get those initials too.” 

Harry bends down, kissing the spot that he’s been poking for the last few minutes. “I love when you call it  _ our  _ life. So we can do it, then? The next time you have off?” 

“I’ll be on call again on Friday. We can do it then.” Louis says. Impulsivity has always been one of his more prominent qualities. It pays off sometimes, and it’s paid off a majority of the time when it’s come to things surrounding Harry. His mum always said that being impulsive would come back to bite him in the arse, and sometimes it did, but other times, it worked really fucking well. 

 

Louis comes home late from the hospital the next night to Harry asleep on the couch. There’s an empty wine glass on the coffee table next to the open Macbook, and Louis can picture Harry coming home from being at the studio, working for a bit on his laptop while waiting for Louis to come home. He always promises to wait for Louis to get home, but he almost always ends up falling asleep on the sofa or even in the bed. 

Louis puts a gentle hand on the small of his back. “Harry. Harry.” he says softly. “Let’s go upstairs, baby. Get you into a real bed.” 

Harry groans softly, reaching out for Louis. His hand lands on Louis’ knee, rubbing gentle circles with his hand. “You’re back.” 

“Yeah. Didn’t think it’d take that long. Let’s go to bed.” Louis whispers. Harry mutters something that sounds like agreement, and he sits up dazedly.

Harry stays half asleep, but Louis manages to get him stripped down to his boxers. “I’m gonna get in the bathroom quick and then it’s yours, assuming you can make it there, alright?” Louis says, kissing his forehead. 

Louis comes back to the bathroom to Harry still near-asleep, and he knows that Harry won’t make it to the bathroom. Louis climbs in bed next to him, snuggling up close. Harry turns and presses his face into the crook of Louis’ neck, inhaling deeply. “Y’smell like the hospital.” he remarks, pressing a kiss to Louis’ skin. “Thought anymore about these tattoos we’re going to get?” 

“Think about them all the time. I never have second thoughts, though.” 

“Mhm.” Harry hums. “Good. Me neither.” And then he falls asleep. 

 

********

 

Harry’s laying on his stomach in the chair, almost lulled to sleep by the needle on his back and Louis smoothing his thumb over the top of his hand. “Of course you fall asleep when you get tattoos.” Louis says quietly.

Harry turns his face toward Louis, opening one eye and smiling a bit. “If I channel my energy into sleeping I don’t get turned on.” 

Louis curses under his breath, glancing at the tattoo artist, who isn’t really paying attention to their conversation as he sings along to the song playing over the speakers. “Of course you’d get turned on from tattoos. Jesus, H.” 

“Alright,” the tattoo artist says suddenly. “I’m just about done here. I’ll let you take a picture of them so you can see ‘em before I put the ointment on and bandage it up.” 

“Ooh, yay. Thank you.” Harry closes his eyes again, letting the tattoo artist finish up and tell him to sit up. “Can you take a pic, Lou?” 

Harry watches Louis nod, getting up to take a picture of the letters on Harry’s back. Louis’ letter has a little hand-drawn (in Louis’ handwriting) heart beside it, and Grace’s is in her own handwriting. “They’re so nice, H.” Louis says, showing Harry the picture. 

“Oh,  _ wow _ . You have to do yours now.” Harry says excitedly, looking at Louis with wide eyes while the artist bandages the letters up. 

By the time Louis has his shirt off and settles into the chair, Harry’s already texted both his mum and Grace a picture of the tattoos. Grace sends red hearts and his mum asks when there’s going to be  _ other _ initials there (but Harry already has hers on his shoulder, so she doesn’t mean  _ her  _ initials). 

“I never really thought I’d do this with anyone. I haven’t gotten one of these since, like, med school.” Louis says, drawing Harry out of his phone. 

“You’re an old man, we get it,” Harry teases. Louis smiles, clearly trying hard not to make his shoulders shake with a laugh. “I’ve got you tied down. You could at least sound a bit happier about it.” 

“I am.” Louis replies, rolling his eyes. “I was just saying that I never saw myself getting tattoos for someone else other than myself. I’m glad you’re the one I’m doing it for.” 

“Me too,” Harry whispers. He watches the needle drag across Louis’ back, his own initial going into Louis’ skin for the rest of time alongside a tiny anchor that Grace’s initial will be right next to for the rest of time. “I never really saw anyone but myself getting a tattoo for Grace,” Harry admits. 

“What can I say? I just go above and beyond. And you know I love her as if she were my own. We talked about that before I popped the question, didn’t we?” he asks. Now Louis’ the one with his eyes slipping shut. He handles the pain so fucking well – and Harry does too, don’t get him wrong – but watching Louis get a tattoo is just… hotter than Harry had anticipated. 

“We did.” he answers finally. “It’s still a bit mindblowing to me, that’s all. How well you… fit.”  _ I’m so glad it worked out this way, you make me feel like I could swallow the sun, you make me feel like everything I’ll ever do is just to make you smile and I love that.  _

Louis smiles, then he stops talking for almost the entirety of the tattooing. Harry’s literally breathless when he looks at the tattoos, can’t believe that his initial is there next to a tiny anchor and Grace’s initial. “Oh, Louis,” Harry breathes. “It’s beautiful, babe.” 

“Lemme see,” Louis turns his head to the other side, motioning for Harry to take a picture with his phone. Harry does, gasping again at how nice it looks on Louis’ back. “Shit. Looks weird. Like, having them there.  _ Two _ initials.” 

While Louis’ sitting upright and the tattoo artist is bandaging him up, Harry kisses Louis, square on the mouth, and breaks out into a grin. “I love you. I’m so glad we decided to do it,” he tells him, and Louis nods in agreement. 

After they pay and are given aftercare instructions, Harry kisses Louis against the car before letting him get in and drive them home. Grace asks to see the tattoos immediately, but Harry explains what the artist told them about the bandages and being sanitary and she says that he has to promise to let her watch him undress it. 

Harry grants her that much, so, later, when himself and Louis tend to each other’s tattoos Grace watches intently. She locks her eyes on where Harry’s uncovering Louis’ tattoos, and she  _ gasps  _ when she sees it in full for the first time. “Did it hurt?” she asks, clearly resisting the urge to reach out and touch it. Proving Harry’s theory, “when can I touch it?”

“Not for awhile. I’ll let you know when, they feel cool to touch.” Louis replies, looking at Harry in the mirror and smiling at him. “And no, it didn’t really hurt that bad.” 

“Dad falls asleep when he gets tattoos. Last time I went with him and he fell asleep,” Grace says, poking one of the tattoos on Harry’s arm. 

“Yeah, I don’t fall asleep, but it doesn’t hurt that horribly,” Louis tells her, turning around once Harry’s redressed his tattoo and pushing Harry’s shirt up his back. 

Louis does the same thing Harry did to his, gentle fingers over the skin. “You have the hands of a surgeon,” Harry says lowly, hiding a smile in the crook of his shoulder. Louis laughs, kissing Harry’s bare shoulder before pulling his shirt back down. 

“What do we feel for dinner?” Louis asks, looking down at Grace.  _ Anything, anything you want, just as long as you’re happy.  _

 

********

 

**FOUR MONTHS BEFORE.**

 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Louis says. “We need to go for a drive, but you need to close your eyes.” 

Harry looks up at him, clearly confused. Louis figured he’d be confused — in fact, he  _ banked _ on that very confusion. “Okay, but Grace is here–”

“I knew you’d try to use her as an excuse. She’s already in the car, H. Hurry up, I’m on call.” 

Three minutes later, Harry’s sitting in the back seat, Grace’s hands covering his eyes. “He doesn’t know where we’re going?” Grace asks, nearly vibrating in pure excitement. 

Louis glances at her in the rearview mirror, shaking his head. “Nope. Not a clue.” 

“You know I can hear you, right?” Harry asks. “My eyes are covered but not my ears. Are we almost there?” 

“Yeah, love, we’re almost there. Make sure you’re not peeking, or I’ll never forgive you,” Louis says. Yeah, he’s being a bit over dramatic, but he’s  _ so  _ fucking excited for this. 

He parks right outside and opens the door for Harry, quickly tying one of his ties around Harry’s head and making sure that he can’t see anything before Louis and Grace lead him inside. “Okay, baby, you can look now.” 

Harry pulls the makeshift blindfold off, eyebrows furrowing when he sees where they are. “What’re we doing here? This was one of the options for– the wedding.  _ Louis.”  _

“I made the downpayment a few days ago. I know you claimed that you were undecided when it came to a venue, but I  _ also  _ know that you really like this one. And I mean  _ really _ like it. I wouldn’t have gone behind your back and gotten it if I wasn’t completely sure. But when we visited here and talked to the owners that day after work I could just tell that you were working out color schemes and seating arrangements and where the DJ is gonna be set up.” 

“I hate how right you are about things,” Harry breathes, looking around. “We’re gonna be out there,” he points out the french doors, “and then the reception is going to be in here. And Grace knew?” 

“I had to convince her to come along somehow. Getting her in on the secret did the job just fine.” Louis admits, smiling widely. “Again, sorry I went behind your back, but this is what you get when you’re indecisive about things. People go ahead and do things for you.” 

“I’m not even mad at  _ all.  _ I’m glad you did this.” Harry says, sounding breathless. “We’re going to get  _ married  _ here, shit.” 

Louis and Grace both laugh at his enthusiasm, sharing a look between the two of them that Louis stores in the back of his mind to  hold onto for the rest of time. “How long are we supposed to stay here and let him gawk?” Grace asks, leaning her back against Louis’ front and looking up at him.

“A little while. We still have to stop at the bakery and taste some cakes.” 

“I never would have pegged you to be the responsible wedding planner,” Grace admits. “Dad’s really micromanage-y when it comes to stuff like this, so I’m surprised he’s not more on top of things.” 

“Eh, he’s been busy. The photography studio and everything.” Louis replies. They watch Harry as he gasps outside the french doors. 

“Sometimes he just needs a little push.” Grace tells him. “And he doesn’t mind when you’re the one that pushes him.”

 

They try cakes once they finally drag Harry from the venue. Harry falls in love with the red velvet while the sweet baker falls in love with Harry and  _ Louis _ falls even more in love with Harry. On the way home, Harry drives and Louis puts his hand on Harry’s inner thigh, almost subconsciously rubbing up and down. Harry moves his leg closer to the center console and Louis pretends he doesn’t notice. 

“I love when you do that,” Harry says quietly, glancing from the road to Louis. Louis hums questioningly, pretending he doesn’t know what Harry’s talking about. “That. With your hand. You do it whenever we’re in the car. And a lot of the time when we’re just sitting next to each other. I love it.” 

Louis hasn’t realized that he does it  _ that  _ often. “Do I? I knew I was doing it now but I didn’t think I did it that often,” he says admittedly, figuring that honesty is the best policy at this point. “You really liked the place? And the cake?” 

Harry nods, glancing at Grace in the rearview mirror. “Yeah. I can’t believe you two were in cahoots the whole time. I know you said you wanted to be the cool dad, but this is just another level.” 

Louis laughs. “That wasn’t me trying to be the  _ cool dad _ , or whatever. It was just me…” he looks over his shoulder at Grace, who’s nodding off against the window. “Trying to get her to  _ like _ me. To be involved. She shouldn’t feel like she’s being left behind, you know?” 

“God, Tomlinson.” Harry breathes, shaking his head. “You’re so considerate. You care so much about her. It… it blows my mind.”

Louis goes to reply, but his phone starts ringing. It’s Zayn, during work hours, which isn’t a good sign. “Hey, Z.” he answers, looking at Harry apologetically already. 

“They were about to page you but I wasn’t sure if you were still doing wedding stuff, but if you could get here as soon as possible, that’d be great. Quadruple bypass going awfully wrong and every other possible cardiac surgeon is wrapped up in something else.” 

Louis sighs. “I’m on my way home now, I’ll come right over.” 

“I can drop you off,” Harry offers immediately. “I’ll come pick you up whenever you’re done.” 

Louis looks over at him, considering it. “Alright, yeah. Okay, Z. I’ll be there soon.”

Zayn hangs up without saying goodbye, making Louis roll his eyes. Harry makes the next turn on the way to the hospital before he says anything. “What time do you think you’ll be done?” 

“Not sure. They’ve got a surgery going south. I’m going to try to get in and out quick. I’m not scheduled for a graveyard shift and I refuse to let them spring one on me.” Louis replies. “I’ll tell you when I’m done. If it’s too late then I’ll crash in the oncall room or something.”

“Nah. I’ll come get you. After today, it’s the least I can do.” Harry tells him. “I can save you some of whatever we get for dinner. And I’ll make sure that I’m fully sober and conscious for whenever it is you’re done and ready for me to pick you up.”

Louis laughs. “Okay, Styles. Sounds good. I’ll text you as soon as I’m done,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt as the hospital comes into sight. 

Harry pulls to a stop in front of the main doors, throwing the car into park and looking at Grace in the back seat. Upon seeing that she’s fully asleep, he leans across the center console and kisses Louis, soft and warm and slow. 

“I’ll see you later tonight.” Harry says softly, kissing Louis’ cheek. “Go save a life.” 

Louis kisses him on the lips one more time before finally getting out of the car. He scrubs in record time, getting right into the surgery and working until the aching in his feet from standing becomes forgotten. 

The guy starts crashing, losing too much blood, and they can’t bring him back. The last words Harry said to him were  _ go save a life  _ and Louis did the exact opposite of that. This one hurts a bit more than the others, because Louis was called in specially to fix this and he couldn’t do it. 

“I’ll let the family know,” Louis says softly. “Call the time of death.” 

The surgeon who couldn’t finish the surgery in the first place announces the time of death — twenty-one-sixteen — and says that he can notify the family, but Louis shakes his head. “You can come, but let me do the talking.”

The other surgeon leads Louis up to the waiting room where the man’s wife is. The woman stands up immediately, but looks utterly confused by Louis standing there. “My name is Louis, I’m a heart surgeon here and I was called in to help on your husband’s case. The quadruple bypass was unfortunately a lot for your husband’s heart to handle. We did everything we could, but…” 

No matter how long Louis works in hospitals, telling families the outcome of their loved ones never gets any easier. He has to look away this time, it physically hurts him to have the woman react this way and Louis didn’t even  _ know  _ her or her husband. 

Once he’s away from the crying and the beeping heart rate monitors, he texts Harry. Harry replies almost immediately:  _ i’m on my way !! :) xxxx.  _

Louis changes out of his scrubs and back into his regular clothes, looking around for Zayn but coming up empty in his search. Harry texts Louis when he’s outside and Louis goes right out. “Hey, baby,” he breathes, buckling his seatbelt before resting his head against the car window. 

“Hi, Lou. How’d it go?” 

“We lost him. It was horrible. Shit never gets easier,” this time, it’s Harry putting his hand on Louis’ leg. 

“Oh, Lou. I’m so sorry.” Harry breathes. “Are you alright?” 

“I think it’s harder than ever, now. Telling people that their loved one died.” Louis admits, and Harry hums questioningly. “Because  _ now _ I have you. And, I mean, Grace too. I tell people that someone they love died almost every single day that I work. But now I just picture that being us and it makes it a lot more difficult. It’s kind of selfish.” 

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not. It’s hard. And now you have something to hold on to, something  _ worth  _ holding on to. It’s big, it’s scary. You’re in a line of work that shows you a lot of bad shit everyday and it makes you think of what you have and how easily it could be taken away.” 

Louis looks over at him in awe. “You’re really smart, you know that?” 

“I figured you weren’t just with me for the mind blowing sex.” Harry laughs. “Which. We can have some of that if you want, unless you’re too… you know, sad.” 

“Hm. What’re you offering, Styles?” 

“Grace is already falling asleep, we have the whole night ahead of us… maybe we can fit a little bit of everything in.” 

Louis grins. “You present a tempting offer.” 

“Or we can just go home and relax. I’ll make you a cuppa and you can take a shower and I won’t even try to come in there with you.” 

“Maybe we can do that. Relax.” Louis says softly. There won’t ever come a time where he  _ doesn’t  _ want to have sex with Harry, but tonight just… his heart wouldn’t be in it all the way and it’s kind of fucked up to think about people dying while the man you love is sucking your cock. 

At home, Harry makes Louis a cuppa while Louis gets into the shower. The door opens while he’s still in there, Harry sticking his head in. “Are you decent?” 

“Not in the slightest, love. You promised you’d stay out.” 

“I brought you a cuppa. And I promised I’d stay out of the  _ shower _ , not out of the bathroom. I can just sit here and keep you company while I stare at you through the shower door.” 

Louis laughs, turning his back to the door so Harry has a full view of his arse. Harry groans from outside the door, tapering off into more of a desperate whimper. “Are you drinking my tea?” 

“Why don’t you turn around and find out?” Harry challenges. Even though Louis’ not looking at him, he can imagine the smirk that’s on Harry’s face. His dimple is probably popping out and he probably looks fucking sinful, Louis almost doesn’t want to turn around because he won’t be able to  _ handle  _ himself. 

But he does, because Harry asked him to and because he just can’t resist. Harry’s not even holding the mug. “You’re not. Good. I’m gonna want that.”

Harry doesn’t reply, but Louis can almost see the gears turning in Harry’s head. He reaches for the shampoo in an attempt to distract himself. Harry pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side and leaning back against the vanity. Louis sighs, knowing exactly what Harry’s trying to do and also knowing that it’s working very well. “Get in here.” 

Harry nearly smacks his head when he jumps up. He pulls the rest of his clothes off in record time, getting into the shower and crowding Louis against the shower wall to kiss him. “You’re ridiculous. Always trying to seduce me.” Louis murmurs, kissing Harry’s neck. 

“It wasn’t my original plan,” Harry admits, “I thought I’d be able to control myself. I really did just want to keep you company. And, my seduction attempts always prove successful.” 

Louis reaches for Harry’s cock, making Harry gasp. “They do. But as cocky as you are when it comes to seducing me, you always crumble the second I get my hands on you.” 

“Only like that for you, you know,” Harry tells him. “I never gave it up this easy for anyone before you. Because I—  _ fuck _ , never wanted to let anyone get too close.” 

“You’re always such a big sap when I’ve got my hand on your cock.” Louis teases. 

Harry gasps, his forehead resting against the shower tiles beside Louis’ head. “You drive me insane. Up the fucking wall.” 

 

********

 

“This one,” Harry points, looking up at the jewler. “How much?” 

The man smiles, taking it out of the case and handing it to Harry to look at. “Within your price range. And, would you look at that, this one’s in the size you requested as well.” 

“Yeah, this is the one.” Harry says decidedly, nodding his head.

“Will you be paying with a card?” 

Harry ponders for a second. They haven’t fully merged their accounts yet, so Louis won’t see just how high Harry’s price range actually went. “Yes, card is fine.” 

Ten minutes later, Harry leaves the store with a small bag — similar to the one Louis got that day at the mall, probably — and finds Grace waiting in the food court where he left her. “Did you get it?” she asks excitedly. “Can I see?” 

Harry smiles, taking the ring out of the bag and letting Grace open the box. She gasps, breaking out into a big smile of her own. “It’s perfect. It looks like something he’d wear,” she says, conveying Harry’s thought process exactly.

“You ready to go? I kind of want to get home and give it to him.” 

 

Louis is sitting on the couch when Harry and Grace come home. He’s watching the episode of The Walking Dead that he missed when he was working the other night, but pauses it the second Harry and Grace come in (Grace  _ hates  _ the show with a passion, so they make it a point not to watch it around her). “Hi, love,” he smiles at Harry. 

“Give it to him,” Grace whispers, before running up the stairs.

Louis furrows his eyebrows, watching as Harry comes and sits on 

the couch next to him. “You watched this one, right? I’d feel bad if I started it without you but I’m pretty sure only I missed it.” 

“You’re fine.” Harry laughs. “Thank you, though.”

“What’s Grace mean when she tells you to give me something?” Louis inquires, turning the TV fully off. Harry reaches for the small bag on the table, pulling the box out. 

“I thought about holding onto it, like, until the wedding, but Grace and I decided in the car on the way home that maybe it’d be best to just… do it now,” Harry starts explaining, presenting the small gold band to Louis, who looks  _ shocked.  _ “Proposing back isn’t really a thing, and I know I don’t have to do it, but I want to do it. Because it’s an excuse for me to ramble to you about how perfect you are and you can’t say anything about it.” 

Louis laughs, tears forming in his eyes and his hands tracing delicate circles on both of Harry’s legs absently. Harry continues, “I knew I wanted to marry you even before I heard you whisper about it to me while you thought I was asleep. I knew I wanted to marry you when I saw you at Zayn and Liam’s wedding, when we kissed for the first time, when you came to Grace’s birthday party. I knew all along. And, I just… I can’t wait for August fifteenth, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be one of the best days of my life, behind, like, Grace being born. Anyways, I’m proposing back to you. So, Louis Tomlinson, will you marry  _ me? _ ” 

“ _ And me!”  _ Grace chimes in from the top of the stairs, where Harry had a hunch she’d be eavesdropping from. 

“Will you marry my daughter and I?” Harry smiles, grabbing Louis’ right hand. 

“Yes, I will marry you back, Harry Styles. And you too, Grace!” 

Harry slides the ring on Louis’ finger before pressing forward and kissing him. “You didn’t even stop me from rambling,” Harry murmurs, his fingers dancing over the ring in its spot on Louis’ finger. 

“You know I like listening to you talk. And you were talking all about how much you love me, so it was romantic rambling. I thought you were just gonna wait until the wedding to unleash your full sap.” 

“Oh, that wasn’t the half of it,” Harry laughs. “Grace is still lingering at the top of the stairs.” 

“She’ll leave if she doesn’t want to watch us snog like nobody’s watching and like we’re getting  _ married  _ in a matter of months,” Louis replies. That’s all the motivation Harry needs to be kissing Louis like nobody’s watching. Louis kisses him back, one hand in his hair and one up Harry’s shirt. 

And they lay there on the couch like that, for a while, kissing and talking and touching each other’s ring fingers like they’ve never seen rings before. “Okay, okay,” Louis murmurs, putting a hand on Harry’s chest and letting his head fall back against the couch. “While Grace can decide for herself how much she wants to watch us snog, we shouldn’t subject her to it outrageously. Also, I can feel your cock against my thigh and it’s only getting harder the more I kiss you,” he adds lowly, hand from Harry’s chest wandering down to his arse. 

Harry reaches back and swats Louis’ hand away, sitting up in between Louis’ legs. “I love you, you know.” 

“I do know. I love you too.”

 

********

 

**THREE MONTHS BEFORE**

 

Harry sits in the center of the bed, painting his nails while waiting for Louis to come home from his shift at the hospital. He dropped Grace off at school and started a load of laundry and washed the dishes from breakfast and now he has nothing to do. So he’s painting his nails, jet black, because he can and he likes it and it makes him feel good. 

“ _ Baby _ ,” Louis breathes suddenly, nudging the bedroom door open. “I’m so fucking tired. What’re you— oh, painting your nails again, love?”

Harry nods, just glancing up at him. Louis only shucks his jacket off before flopping onto the bed, his head falling near Harry’s thigh. “Do you want me to start the shower or run you a bath or something?” Harry asks, looking down at him. “I can leave the room, too, if you want to sleep.” 

Louis shakes his head, his face tired but his eyes bright. “No, stay here. I like watching you do this.”

Harry feels himself blush, but he shakes his head and brushes Louis’ comment off while he moves onto his second coat. “Even when you’re so tired you’re numb you’re trying to flatter me.” 

“Always trying to flatter you.” Louis says softly, his eyes slipping shut. “You deserve all the flattery ever. How’s Grace doing?” 

“She’s doing alright. I have to bring her to a checkup this afternoon, once she’s out of school. Then I’m running over to the space Li and I have been working on and see if I can bang out the rest of it today. He wants to be open by the time we get back from our honeymoon,” Harry explains, putting the cap back on the nail polish bottle and setting it on his bedside table.

Louis opens his eyes again, holding a hand out and gesturing for one of Harry’s hands. Harry gives it to him, and Louis starts blowing cool air over the newly painted nails. Harry smiles down at him. “You don’t have to do that. You’re exhausted, you should sleep.” 

“Sleep schedule is gonna be fucked as it is. Two night shifts in a row because of Zayn’s dumbass. I can stay up and talk to you for a little longer.” 

Louis does as promised, and once Harry’s nails are dry he helps peel Louis’ shirt off and even though Louis didn’t express a desire to get undressed, he doesn’t put up much of a fight when Harry lays him back against the pillows and starts kissing his neck. “I’m sorry in advance if I fall asleep while you’re doing this,” Louis murmurs. “”m just so tired and your mouth is so warm, feels so good.” 

“I won’t be offended if you get lulled to sleep by my intricate hickey-giving.” Harry laughs. “You’re tired and this is, I dunno, soothing.” 

Louis nods, humming in agreement and maybe pleasure as Harry mouths over his pulsepoint. “You’re good at this.” 

“What’s that? Giving hickies?” 

“No. Well, yes. And I still hate that you call them  _ hickies _ .” Louis pauses, licking his lips. “But you’re good at making people feel relaxed. Making their stresses go away.” 

Harry ignores the  _ hickey  _ remark, because they have this debate every other time they’re making out and nothing ever changes. But he smiles into Louis’ neck regardless. “Stop talking and let me put you to sleep with how nice this feels.” 

After a little while, Harry’s rate of kisses slows down as Louis’ breathing does, and he’s fully asleep. It’s ten-thirty in the morning, Harry knows Louis fell asleep a lot later than he usually would like to and that’s probably Harry’s fault; but Louis will insist otherwise until Harry admits defeat. Harry kisses Louis’ cheek and grabs the warm blanket from the edge of the bed and drapes it over Louis before leaving the room. 

Harry busies himself for the majority of the time that Louis’ sleeping. It feels like a lot of Harry’s time is spent just waiting for Louis, and he’s alright with that. Louis comes downstairs before Harry’s even had to go get Grace at school (it’s the last day before her half-term, so Grace is very excited for the extended weekend). Harry’s in the middle of folding laundry in the living room. Louis shuffles in wearing different clothes than he fell asleep in — now Adidas joggers and one of Harry’s sweatshirts — with his hair messy and his glasses on his nose. 

“Hi, love,” he smiles softly, sitting down next to Harry and reaching into the laundry basket. 

“You don’t have to help. I’m gonna have to run and get Grace soon, do you want me to pick something up for you to eat? Or I can stop at the store and I can cook dinner here, but I haven’t got anything in the house at the moment.” 

Louis shakes his head, folding the article of clothing he’d pulled out and adding it to the pile. “No, it’s alright. We’ll just order takeaway. My treat.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Our finances are combined now, it’s not your treat anymore.” 

Louis laughs. “Okay, fair enough. But still, just order takeaway. You haven’t had time to go shopping, it’s fine. We can eat it on the couch and find a movie that none of us have seen while you get drunk on wine and Grace and I laugh at you,” Louis explains this plan – which sounds like he’s thought about a lot – and Harry finds himself nodding in agreement without thinking twice about it. 

Harry looks over at him, so tired and soft and still helping Harry even though he said he didn’t want any help, and Harry can’t believe he’s getting married.  _ I could do that every single night of my life so long as it meant you were there and you were happy,  _ his heart sings, while Harry’s brain makes him lurch forward and kiss Louis on the mouth. 

“Mhm,” Louis hums, smiling into it. “Can’t get caught up here, you’ve gotta go get Grace. I’ll finish up the laundry while you’re gone. If, for some godforsaken reason, they page me before you’re home, I’ll text you and let you know.” 

Harry forces himself to stand up before he’s drawn into kissing Louis again. If that happens, he’ll never get out of the house and Grace will be standing there waiting for a father who’s definitely not coming on time. “Okay. But I really hope they don’t.” 

Louis smiles up at him. “Me too. Love you, drive safe.” 

“I will,” Harry, against his better judgement, bends down and kisses Louis quickly, just once, before he heads toward the door and slips his shoes on. 

Some new song by some dumb new boy band comes on the radio when Harry turns it on, making him immediately change the station. Louis’ already proclaimed his hatred for the song and the band, so Harry finds himself automatically hating it as well. He sings along with the songs on the radio as he pulls up out front of Grace’s school, in the same spot he always parks in. Grace comes out one song later, talking to her friends. 

She stops suddenly, but her mouth is still moving. Harry watches as it happens, but he feel like his body doesn’t work, it won’t move, the song in the background slows down and the people around Grace slow down and Harry’s not sure he’s breathing. Grace bends down, her hands on her knees, breathing slow, and her gaze looks toward her father’s car. Harry’s hands fumble for his phone — not calling for an ambulance, not calling her regular doctor, but calling Louis. He gets out of the car, hoping that his legs are moving faster than he thinks they are. 

“Grace, G, baby. C’mon, what’s wrong?” Harry asks, crouching down in front of her. “Tell me what’s happening.” 

“It feels a little hard to breathe, I feel kinda weak, like I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the car.” Grace replies.

Harry goes to talk to her again, but Louis’ voice rings through the phone, loud and bright and concerned. “Harry? Is everything alright?” 

“I think Grace is having some kind of complication. God, I  _ knew  _ something was wrong when I set her to school today. What do I do? I called you and I’m—” 

“Meet me at the hospital, love. Don’t call an ambulance, it’s not worth the bill. I’ll figure out what’s wrong with her, alright?” 

Harry takes Grace in his arms, ignoring the looks he’s getting from students and parents alike and rushing her to the car. He puts her in the passenger seat, wanting to be able to keep eyes on her, and  _ books  _ it to the hospital, where hopefully Louis beats him because he doesn’t want to waste a second. Harry feels endless relief when Louis’ standing outside the doors to A&E, not even in his scrubs but looking very concerned. 

“What happened?” he asks, opening the passenger side door. “Hey, love, you’re not looking too hot. Wanna tell me what’s wrong?” 

“I’m not rejecting the heart, am I?” she asks, still wheezing a little bit. 

“We’re gonna figure it out, G. Don’t worry.” 

Louis carries her in, which Harry thinks is a good thing, because he’s not sure his body can carry itself, let alone his daughter. Louis gets Grace in a bed and in one of the trauma rooms — even though Harry’s praying to God this isn’t a trauma — and starts spitting medical terms to the nurse. They get her on oxygen and fluids, Louis barking that he wants to get her in a room upstairs and wants to get tests run on her. 

Harry stands there, helpless, watching his daughter struggle and watching Louis rack his brain for all the possible causes. “Pneumonia.” he says decidedly, despite no tests and no solid answers from Grace. He turns to Harry as he continues speaking, “it’s common in heart transplant patients. And it’s treatable, she’s going to be fine. We just have to get on it and treat it immediately and then we’re fine.” 

Harry exhales heavily, feeling tears pool in his eyes as he looks to Louis desperately. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, love. It’s all gonna be okay, we’re going to do everything we can.” Louis says. That’s the token doctor phrase, Harry knows it very well, but the words feel safe and meaningful coming off of Louis’ tongue. Harry tries to relax, but he can’t. He follows Louis and Grace up to the room she’s been given, holding Grace’s hand all the way there. 

When they get her settled, Louis leaves the room and Grace pulls her oxygen mask off, looking up at her father. “I’m going to be okay. Go talk to Louis, please.”

Harry sighs shakily, kissing her forehead before going out into the hall. “She’s okay.” he says, making Louis turn around and look at him. 

“I know she is. We’re gonna put her on antibiotics that don’t interfere with her anti-rejection medication regimen and she’ll be fine. Keep her here overnight tonight and for a little bit tomorrow, and then I think you can go home. We can amend that because I live at your house, so her doctor will be with her, otherwise I’d want to keep her here longer,” Louis explains, long-winded and sounding stressed. 

“Thank you. Thank you so fucking much,” Harry says. “Please just make sure that she’s okay.” 

Louis looks at him, eyes sad, but he smiles. “It’s going to be alright. D’you wanna call your mum or something?” 

“Oh, shit. Yeah, I guess I should do that. Just to let her know. She’ll probably bust ass to get over here, but I guess that’ll be alright.” 

  
  


Anne shows up barely an hour after Harry hung up, knowing right where to go despite her son’s horrible instructions. She makes it to the room, after only a slight fight with a nurse, finding Harry asleep in the chair by Grace’s bed and Grace asleep in the bed. Anne sighs softly, turning around to the waiting room. 

Louis is sitting in one of the chairs there, a tablet in his lap. “Hi, love,” she says. “Can I sit?” 

Louis looks up at her, immediately sitting up a little straighter upon seeing who’s standing next to him. Anne pretends she doesn’t notice. “Yeah, of course. H is still asleep, you know.” 

“He always winds up asleep in the hospital, no matter what time of day it is. I have a theory that he doesn’t get enough rest, which is unsurprising. How’s Grace doing?” 

“She’s got moderate pneumonia. We put her on antibiotics and we’re keeping her for observation over night. But she’s going to be okay. As soon as myself and her regular doctor think it’s okay, we can bring her home,” Louis explains, turning the tablet off and putting it on the table between them. 

“Harry hasn’t used this as an excuse to push the wedding off, has he?” Anne asks, feeling a bit nervous once she asks the question but hoping that Louis doesn’t really pick up on it. 

“He hasn’t really spoken much, and when he has it’s been about Grace. So, no. I’m sure Grace wouldn’t let that happen anyway,” Louis admits, laughing softly. 

“I’m sure you’re right.” Anne laughs. “Planning for that coming along nicely?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s fine. Harry wants the whole go big or go home thing, and he’s really going big. But… I’d give him just about anything he asked for, so, it’s okay,” Louis admits, looking over Anne’s shoulder at the room that Grace is in. 

That makes Anne feel comfortable with the wedding, if she wasn’t already. Louis looks — and sounds — like he could talk about Harry all day if she let him (and, Anne would never really turn down an opportunity to hear someone talk her son up) even though he’s on the job and the daughter of the man he loves is the one he’s on the job for. Louis does talk a little bit more about Harry, and Anne indulges him until his pager beeps. 

  
  


Harry looks around the floor for Louis, but finds him nowhere. He just wanted to ask if Louis was going to go home, but apparently he can’t do that right now. “Couldn’t find him?” Grace asks, looking up from her pudding. “He’s probably in here saving lives or something.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Any idea where Nana went?” 

“Food court. She was starving. I tried to tell her that the hospital food isn’t worth it, but she didn’t really listen.” Grace shrugs. “Are you going to go home?” 

“No, course not, love.” Harry says quickly. “I’m going to stay. I just wanted to see if Louis was going to go.” 

“I’m not,” Louis says from the doorway, where Harry didn’t even fucking  _ know  _ he was standing; he’s just glad he didn’t say anything dumb. 

Louis shuts the door behind him, taking his pager off his waistband and setting it on the little wooden table by the door. “I’m technically off the clock, but I’m staying.” 

“You really don’t–” Harry goes to say, but Louis shakes his head, and Harry shuts up immediately in anticipation of what Louis’ going to say. 

“I’m staying. I put the heart in Grace’s chest and that’s why she’s got pneumonia right now. And, we’re a family now, so. I’m not going home.” he explains, and if Grace weren’t there Harry’d probably be jumping Louis’ bones in an instant. Hearing him say  _ we’re a family  _ has Harry feeling a million different things at once. “They’re bringing a cot up, so you don’t have to sleep in the chair.” 

“You can sleep on the cot, if you’re serious about staying.” Harry replies, looking at Grace. “Grace and I already discussed the fact that we’d be sharing the bed because I was going to go insane if I had to sleep in that chair.” 

Louis looks like he’s going to protest, but then looks at Grace, who’s smiling widely, and he says nothing else in regards to their sleeping arrangements. “Where’s your mum?” 

“Food court.” Harry and Grace say at the same time. Grace continues, “she's staying awhile longer then leaving.” 

“Are you feeling alright?” Louis asks, grabbing Grace’s wrist and feeling out her pulse. “Those antibiotics feel like they’re working?” 

Grace nods, pushing the food tray away and settling back into the mattress after Louis’ released her hand. “I feel better already. A little tired, though.”

“We’ll go out in the hall for a little bit, let you get some rest,” Harry tells her. “If you need anything we’ll be right outside, love.” 

Harry grabs Louis by the hand and leads him to the waiting area, both of them sitting down on the couch close together. “It’s different for you when you’re not the doctor, isn’t it?” Harry asks, voice seeming too loud in the quietness of the hospital floor. 

Louis sinks into the sofa, letting Harry rest his head on his shoulder. “Yeah. And I still kind of  _ am _ the doctor, but it’s still different. I haven’t been the family in the waiting room since my mum died.” 

Harry puts his hand on Louis’ chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath his skin. It happens every time Louis talks about his mum, and Harry doesn’t blame him for getting worked up over it. “I know. And I’m sure you know that it never gets any easier.” 

Louis laughs softly, pressing his cheek to the top of Harry’s head. Harry imagines him closing his eyes, getting sleepier by the minute. “I know. Ugh, I hope I can break Grace out early tomorrow. I’ve been in these clothes since I woke up and I had to put them back on after I took my scrubs off.” 

“I told you that you didn’t have to stay here. You’re in this hospital enough as it is.” 

“And I told you I wasn’t leaving. I’m not—” Louis cuts himself off suddenly, apparently seeing someone Harry doesn’t. Harry picks his head up and looks around, his eyes finally landing on his own mother standing there. 

“Are you leaving?” he asks, not even bothering to sit up. 

Anne sits down across from them in one of the arm chairs. “In a few. I’ll sit and talk to you guys for a bit, if you don’t mind that too much.” 

“Course not,” Harry grins at her. “Find anything good in the cafeteria?” 

“Nothing better than we’ve had in the past.” Anne replies. “I hope Louis’ taught you the ins and outs of this whole hospital food thing by now. Hope he’s showed you where the secret better snacks are.” 

“Of course I have. I bring Grace pudding whenever she’s in the hospital overnight.” Louis tells her. Harry feels him shift a bit, trying to sit up a bit straighter in the presence of Harry’s mum. Harry pointedly presses harder into Louis’ side, trying to make him settle down. 

“You’re not gonna let this hurt the wedding planning, are you?” Anne asks, looking at Harry carefully. 

“No, I think I’d die. And so would Grace, for that matter.” Harry laughs. Louis laughs too, and Harry has to resist the urge to press his face against Louis’ neck just to feel his throat rumble with the laugh. Harry’s fucking  _ ridiculous.  _

“Have you sent out the invitations yet?”  

Harry yawns, shaking his head. “Tomorrow we’re supposed to finish them up. If Grace is allowed to leave, then we’ll do it when we get home.”

“I’ve already taken the day off, so I’ll be home all day with you.” Louis says softly, almost like he doesn’t want Anne to hear it. 

Harry looks up at him, eyes wide. “You did? You’re always complaining about when you have to take days off, why do you continue to take them off? You have those two weeks off for the wedding. You really don’t have to, we can do the invites when you get home and I can drop them in the post the next morning.” 

“I don’t  _ complain.”  _ Louis rolls his eyes. “And I’m taking the day off so I can be with you and be with Grace. Make sure she’s okay. I’m like having an in-home doctor, Harry Styles. Except for you, my services are free and off the clock.” 

Harry looks at him in awe, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous. But I’m not gonna complain about having you with me the whole day.” 

“Good, because you don’t have a choice, I was going to be there whether you complained about it or not,” Louis says decidedly, looking back to Anne. “Robin will be your plus one, yeah?”

  
  


Grace is allowed to leave around noon. Louis pulls some of his doctorly strings and, as the surgeon who carried out the heart transplant that made her more vulnerable to pick something up, his doctorly strings carry some weight. The fact that Louis is going home with the patient might add some weight as well, but Louis doesn’t give away much as to how much of a fight it was to have Grace go home. 

After Grace is upstairs sleeping, Harry and Louis both shower and change into more comfortable clothes (Louis puts on his glasses and Harry has to take a moment to snog him senseless against the door) and sit at the dining table with two glasses of wine to finish writing out their wedding invitations. 

“Once these go out in the post, you know you can’t turn back,” Louis remarks, adding another envelope to the pile. 

“As if I’d  _ ever  _ want to back out,” Harry gasps, scandalized. “You’re handsome, you’re a good lay, and you’re an in-home doctor. I’m never giving you up now.” 

Louis laughs softly, taking a sip from his wine. “Well, you’re a connoisseur in the kitchen and a wildly good kisser and an in-home psychologist. I’m never giving you up either.” 

“You’re just  _ showering  _ me with compliments,” Harry says dramatically. Louis leans over and kisses him, almost like he can’t help himself. “You’re a wildly good kisser as well, I left that one out of my list.” 

“You called me a good lay. That was a good blanket term to use.” Louis replies. “Are we almost done with these?”

“Just about. I didn’t realize we had so many friends. The list seems so much bigger when you’re actually looking at the invites.” Harry sighs. He adds another envelope to the pile in the center of the table. “So much money on invitations. I understand how your wallet felt that day I showed you the pricing.”

Louis laughs again. “And you thought I was overreacting.” 

They finish up the invitations, leaving them by the door so Harry remembers to grab them when he goes out tomorrow, then sit on the couch and make out for awhile (wildly good kisser and good lay and all) before Grace makes her way downstairs. 

She lays on the couch, putting her head in Harry’s lap and looking up at him. “Are we going to have dinner?” 

“There’s some leftovers in the fridge.” he tells her, leaning off of Louis and hoping that he gets the message to get up. “We can heat them up for you, if you want.” 

Louis laughs softly next to him, already pushing himself up. “I’ll go see what’s in the fridge.” 

“How’re you feeling?” Harry asks, looking down at Grace. 

Before she can answer his question, Louis is hollering options from the kitchen. Grace says she wants the leftover pasta before she even answers Harry. “I feel okay. I just wish it didn’t happen at school, where everyone could see.” 

“They all know about your heart. It’s not like they haven’t seen you have complications before,” Harry replies. The microwave beeps from the kitchen and a few moments later, Louis comes in carrying two plates with three forks. 

“I know you don’t usually eat anything but takeout on the sofa, but I think tonight we should make an exception.” Louis says, handing Grace one of the plates once she sits up. “And I can only carry two plates with the guarantee of not dropping them, so we’ll have to share, if that’s alright with you.” 

“Perfectly fine. Anything interesting on that you want to watch, G?” Harry asks, handing her the remote. 

Grace shakes her head, but takes the remote from her father anyway. “I can look for something, though. Tell me if you see anything interesting.” 

Grace lands on an old episode of  _ Friends  _ and they all eat in relative silence, save for laughing at the show. Louis lets Harry have the rest of the pasta when it gets down to the last few forkfuls, feeding them into Harry’s mouth with a smile on his face. 

After the plate is empty, Louis sets it on the table and looks at Harry carefully. “Have I got something on my face?” Harry asks quietly, cocking his head to the side. Louis nods, smiling. “Well get it off then! Stop staring at me like that!” 

Louis laughs, leaning forward and kissing the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Sauce. On the corner of your mouth,” Louis says softly, gesturing to his own mouth. He pulls Harry into his side, settling in to finish watching the program. 

Grace finishes her meal after a little bit, laying back down with her head in Harry’s lap. They all lay there together, close and laughing at the show, and Harry feels so at home it’s insane. Even after years of living in this house, Harry’s never felt more at home in it than he does with Louis being here. 

 

********

 

Louis is stuck in the OR. Harry and Grace have been sitting in the waiting room for going on an hour at this point, they’ve missed one dinner reservation and are pushing on missing the next. Grace has made her rounds around the lobby, talking to every nurse and every waiting person that would talk to her about anything. 

Harry tilts his wrist up and looks at the watch he’s wearing (Harry hates wearing watches, quite honestly, but his sister gave it to him for Christmas and he feels bad) and sighs. “We’re gonna miss the reservation, aren’t we?” Grace asks, spinning in a circle in the middle of the lobby.

“Probably, love. But we can just find somewhere else. We shouldn’t have tried to splurge at that restaurant, anyhow.” Harry replies, resting his chin on his hand. “I know you were excited to go, bug. But we’ll find something else.” 

Before Grace can answer, Louis comes around the corner, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “Shit, I’m so sorry. That surgery was a  _ mess  _ and I just couldn’t get out of it. The woman is alright, thank God, but it was a mess.” 

Grace and Harry both look up at him, equally as relieved to see him there. “We missed our reservation, didn’t we?” Louis asks, looking disappointed. 

“Both of them.” Harry confirms. “But it’s okay, we can find something.” 

Louis leans forward and kisses him gently, even though they’re in the middle of the hospital, and they’ve talked several times about how Louis hates PDA — especially at work. “Thought you didn’t like PDA at work.” Harry remarks. 

“I’ve gotten used to it. And I’m extremely apologetic tonight, so kissing you publicly is the least I can do.” 

Louis continues to apologize profusely the entire way to the car, until Grace finally tells him to stop apologizing. All the restaurants they hit have obnoxiously long wait times, so Harry, Grace, and Louis end up sitting in the car debating what to do. 

“We could just go home. Find something there,” Louis suggests, looking over at Harry. 

“We won’t find anything good enough and we’ll end up ordering takeaway. We’re  _ not  _ ordering in again,” Harry says firmly. 

“What about that?” Grace points up the road to a taco truck. Usually, Harry would genuinely rather  _ die  _ than go eat at a food truck; he just doesn’t trust them to be quality food spots. But Louis agrees immediately, and before Harry can even protest, Grace and Louis are both getting out of the parked car. 

Harry joins them at the truck where they’re looking at the menu. “What do you want, love?” Louis asks, putting an arm around Harry’s waist and pulling him closer. 

“I dunno. I’ve never eaten at one of these places before. Have you?” he asks, squinting at the menu and trying to pick something out. “Just get whatever you want. I’ll eat whatever you get.” 

Louis nods, looking down at Grace. “What about you, kid? Any cravings? That heart needs to eat, you know.” 

Grace laughs, nodding. “I know what I want. Can you order it for me?” 

“Course. Which one?” he asks. Grace points to the menu, and Louis rattles off the order and they step back to wait for the food. 

“I can’t believe you have me eating at a taco truck.” Harry says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You made us miss  _ two  _ reservations, every restaurant in town is packed, and now we’re eating at a taco truck.” 

“I’m getting you… cultured.” Louis says whimsically, gesturing with his right hand. Harry laughs out loud. The man working in the truck puts a bag on the windowsill and Louis pays with cash before Harry can even offer up his card, and then they’re on the way back to the car. 

They eat in the parked car, because Louis says it’s part of  _ the experience  _ and the tacos will never make it home without getting gross and soggy. 

Harry finds himself stopping his taco consumption in favor of looking at Louis, painted by the harsh light of the streetlights that makes him look somewhat… ethereal. Louis doesn't even notice, too caught up in telling Grace about his surgery, and Harry thinks that it just makes him seem even more perfect. He wouldn’t want to be eating street vendor tacos at half eight with anyone  _ but  _ Louis. 

 

********

 

**TWO WEEKS BEFORE.**

 

“Why can’t I just see it, H?” Louis whines, pouring more champagne into his glass. “You didn’t let me help you pick one out, now you’re not gonna let me see it all hemmed and perfectly tailored?” 

“No. It’s bad luck to see the bride before her wedding day,” Harry sticks his head out from behind the curtain, a wicked grin on his face. 

“But I showed you mine!” Louis protests. 

“Just keep drinking your champagne. You’re done for the day at work, anyhow. And I’ll drive home,” Harry winks. The curtain snaps shut again and the next time Harry shows his face, he’s wearing the clothes he came in. “Okay, I’m good to go. You’re good, right?”

“I’m great. Let me finish this glass?” Louis asks, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. 

“Not that I think you need it, but sure. I’ll bring the car around.”

Louis finishes his glass, thanks the woman behind the counter, and meets Harry out front. Harry talks about the wedding for the whole car ride home, seemingly forgetting that Louis’ a little champagne-drunk and that he feels like he’s floating a few feet above ground. 

Louis looks over at him, smiling widely and suddenly feeling very overcome by a feeling of  _ I’m so fucking in love with you it’s insane _ that almost takes his breath away. “So we’re gonna have to— what?” Harry pauses, glancing over at Louis. 

“Nothing.” Louis shakes his head. “Just love you a lot, that’s all.”

“You’re a little bit drunk, aren’t you? I forgot you go dizzy over a few glasses of champagne,” Harry laughs softly, shaking his head. “Have you even been listening to what I’m saying?” 

“Vows this and DJ that. I always listen to you. You sound like you’re getting nervous about it. Remember, Styles, we sent those invites out, there’s no backing out now.” 

“I’d never want to back out. Ever.” Harry replies immediately, reaching for the radio and turning it on. “It’s all coming up rather fast, though, that’s all. Just, like, a month until we’re going to be standing at that venue. This time a year ago I was waiting for Grace to get a new heart while sleeping around with you. Now we’re getting ready to get married.” 

“Crazy how life works out,” Louis says simply. 

Harry spares another glance at him, Louis watches his eyes flit between the road and the passenger seat quickly. “You’re… so composed. Casual. If you don’t shed a couple tears while I’m coming down the aisle and we’re reading vows then I’m going to have to turn around and we’ll do the whole thing all over again.” 

Louis laughs, shaking his head. “I am not  _ casual.  _ Never been casual when it came to you.” 

“I’m just saying, you’re a little bit stoic. I’m expecting some tears.” 

“You’ll get what’s justified. I’m sure there will be some tears involved, don’t you worry. You get me sappy. You get me engaged after knowing you for a half a year. You get me writing vows in my head while I operate,” Louis says, knowing that all of it is the truth and hoping that Harry picks up on this. Harry probably will, because he’s really fucking good at reading people — especially Louis. 

“Poetic. I hope those quotes make an appearance in the vows.” Harry laughs, reaching over and putting a hand on Louis’ thigh as they come to a stop sign. “I want to kiss you but I really don’t want to distract myself.” 

“You’re going to do it anyway.” Louis says, already leaning in. 

Harry kisses him, groaning softly when a horn honks behind them and he sits back in the seat, driving with a sigh. “You taste like champagne.” Harry remarks, rubbing his chin with his hand. 

“You look hot when you drive,” Louis says back, without thinking about it. He likes their compliment-wars; a battle of who-loves-who-more that ends with a truce and a makeout session for the record books. 

“You’re a fantastic kisser.” 

“I’ll show you just how good I am when I’m kissing you later,” Louis promises, winking shamelessly. 

 

********

 

Louis wakes up to a mouth on his cock. His mouth immediately opens in a gasp, both hands reaching for the blankets to push them down. Harry is there, obviously, pulling off and looking at Louis with wide eyes. “You showed me all the things you could do with your mouth, so I figured I could show you what I can do with mine.” Harry says, and it sounds so fucking corny but so fucking  _ hot _ , Louis moans from that alone. 

“You’re so fucking— Jesus, Harry,” Louis breathes out. 

So, that’s how Louis’ morning goes. He gets woken up to an insanely good blowjob by his insanely hot  _ fiancé.  _ Then they get in the shower together, make out against the wall under the hot stream of water, and then Louis starts get ready to go into work. 

“You know it’s your last day before we go on our wedding bender.” Harry says from the bed, laying out on his side and looking at Louis as he pulls on a pair of black jeans. 

“If you call it a wedding bender, I will not be so generously given so much time off from work.” Louis says, opening the closet and looking for a shirt to wear. “Don’t you have to run Grace somewhere or something?” 

Harry shakes his head. “Nope.” he replies, popping the  _ p.  _ “I belong to myself for the day. Her friend is picking her up around noon and they’re going to the mall and to get ice cream. She’ll probably end up finessing a sleepover out of me, but that’s okay, because then we get the night to ourselves here.” 

Louis laughs, staring at the ties in his top drawer. “Does this go?” he asks, turning to Harry and holding a navy blue tie up next to his light blue shirt. 

“I love when you wear blue.” Harry sighs happily. “That looks fine. Fantastic. I love when you dress in clothes like that.” 

“You love when I’m in sweatpants.” Louis rolls his eyes, pausing and 

starting to loop the tie around his neck. “You love when I’m in clothes like this, and when I’m in my scrubs. And when I’m in nothing,” he finishes, tying off the tie and bending down to kiss Harry gently. 

“You’re right about that. What time will you be home? If I’m correct and Grace does go off to Corinne's, then maybe we could go on a date night or summat, if you feel up to it. Or we can just sit here and get completely hammered, because I do remember you telling me that you used to be good at that.” Harry rambles. “We can get drunk and sit on the living room floor and sing each other love songs and try not to tell each other what’s written in our vows.”

Louis laughs, shaking his head. “I should be home around seven. I don’t know if I’ll want to go out to dinner after. It might be too late, and. there’s no guarantee I’m gonna be home on time anyway. So if I come home and you’ve already started drinking, I won’t be mad.” 

Harry grabs Louis by the tie and pulls him in for another painfully slow kiss. “I’ve really gotta get going,” Louis murmurs, smiling against Harry’s mouth. “I’ll text you whenever I get the chance, and I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.” 

“Okay, sounds good. Have a good day. I’ll miss you, all alone in this house,” Harry pouts, but it quickly turns into a smile. 

“You should head down to the studio. Check it out a bit.” Louis suggests, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his bag from the chair. “I love you, I’ll see you later.” 

Harry sighs dramatically, watching as Louis leaves. “I love you too!” he calls after Louis. 

Louis drives himself to work like he’s done a thousand times before. He goes through his rounds and his surgery like he’s done a thousand times before. Except today when Louis leaves the hospital, he’s not coming back for two weeks — one week of wedding shit and one week of blissful, sweet honeymooning — and he’ll be coming back a married man. 

Zayn corners Louis at the nurses station towards the end of Louis’ shift. “You’re ready for these two weeks off?” 

“I think I might start to go a little crazy. I hate being out of the operating room for days at a time, it sucks.” 

“Yeah, but are you excited to get married? It snuck up on you, didn’t it?” 

Louis shakes his head, hanging his tablet up. “Nah. I knew what was happening the whole time,” he replies, looking over at Zayn. 

“You got your shit together faster than Li and I did. I’m surprised.” Zayn admits. “Are you excited for the  _ bachelor party?”  _ he asks dramatically. 

“Ready to go to a strip club and have some male stripper’s ass shook in my face? Sure, of course.” 

Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” 

Louis nods. Once he’s in the car on the way home, he calls Harry over the car speaker. “You’re on your way home? Grace proved me right and is sleeping at Corinne’s, so you and I have the whole house to ourselves tonight.” 

Louis smiles, flipping his blinker on. “Sounds great. I’m starving, so I kind of hope you whipped something up.” 

“If Kraft mac and cheese counts as  _ whipping something up, _ then I’m in the middle of it as we speak.” Harry laughs. “I’ll be sitting on the living room floor with a bottle of wine and a few beers for you. Maybe I’ll have the guitar out or something. I’ll show you another side to the man you’re marrying.” 

“Well, I like the sound of that, Styles. I’ll be home in a few, alright?” 

“Sounds good, babe. I’m waiting impatiently for you.” 

 

Louis parks in the street because Harry’s car is blocking the garage and Louis really doesn’t feel like moving the car. He finds Harry where Harry promised he would be; on the floor eating mac and cheese with the guitar on the couch behind him. 

“Hope you saved me some, love,” Louis says, dropping down on the floor next to Harry. “You weren’t kidding about the alcohol and the guitar.” 

Harry laughs, handing Louis a bowl. “Of course I saved you some. When I told you that I’d have the guitar out, I didn’t really think I was being serious about it. I thought maybe it could be a sexy-time adventure, like I’m some rocker and you’re my lover waiting for me overseas. But then I thought about it, and I kind of did miss the guitar a little bit.” Harry explains, putting his own bowl on the counter. He’s rambling, overcompensating, and Louis thinks he’s probably well on his way to drunk already. “It took me for-fucking-ever to get it tuned the right way, but it’s pretty much back to normal now.” 

“I think I remember you mentioning music, but you actually  _ played  _ the guitar? Like, proper pick and songs and stuff?” Louis asks, slowing down in his meal consumption in favor of asking Harry questions. He puts the bowl down without even finishing everything, opening one of the beers and watching Harry hunch over the guitar. 

“Yeah, I used to. Lauren and I used to write together all the time. Then she got hooked on the whole… party scene and then she got pregnant and… yeah. I haven’t used this in forever, basically.” 

“Do you still think about her?” Louis asks, feeling that the question is a little risky but asking it anyway. Harry smiles sadly, and Louis kind of regrets the question, but Harry opens his mouth to reply anyway. 

“Yeah, almost everyday,” he admits, strumming C on the guitar and still not looking up at Louis. 

“Do you… Do you ever think about finding her? Trying to get in touch with her and just… knowing what ever happened to her?” 

Harry shrugs. “Sometimes. Sometimes I think it might benefit Grace, to know who her mum is. Despite what I tell her, her mum wasn’t all bad. And who knows where she ended up, maybe she’s clean and sober and… normal. But she’s thirteen already. It’s been thirteen years, just her and I. The damage is already done,” he laughs, finally looking up at Louis. 

“I’d help you find her, if that might be something you wanted. Just for some… closure. I know how awful it is to lose someone and not get closure.” Louis says softly, resting his arm on top of the couch. 

“I know you do. And I know you would help. I guess that could be something we look into. I’m just kind of scared what we’ll find. Maybe she’s, like, dead or something.” 

Louis shakes his head. “I know a guy. Owes me a favor. If I find anything bad, maybe I won’t tell you. Now, am I gonna get to hear a song?” 

Harry grabs a beat-up notebook from the table. “I used to write songs. Singing them to you wouldn’t feel right, because they’re not about you. But I can sing you something else. Maybe. I don’t really remember much, but I can try.” 

“Well, what do you remember?” Louis asks, smiling. 

“Uh…  _ Wonderwall,  _ obviously, it’s a classic. And I think I remember the chorus of  _ Angie?  _ By the Rolling Stones?” 

Louis laughs, nodding. “I know that one. Give me a little bit of  _ Angie.”  _

Harry looks down at the frets, eyebrows furrowed as he starts to strum. “ _ Angie, I still love you… remember all those nights we cried, all the dreams were held so close, seemed to all go up in smoke… let me whisper in your ear.”  _

Louis joins Harry to sing, “ _ Angie, Angie _ ,” as Harry’s strumming over the chords slows and he looks up at Louis. 

“I’m a little drunk already,” he says admittedly, laughing a little. 

“I know. I figured you were a bit. D’you wanna keep drinking?” 

“Sure, why not?” Harry sighs, leaning forward and grabbing the bottle of wine from the table. “Just stop me before I puke.” 

Louis laughs. “Play me another song, H. I like hearing you sing. It’s… calming.” 

They sit there on the floor, laughing and singing and drinking and kissing. Harry keeps drinking, but Louis holds back because he wants to remember all of this. And, also, Harry gets clingy and needy when he’s drunk and Louis wants to be able to assist him in anyway that he needs. “One day you should teach me how to play,” Louis suggests. “I’ll re-teach you piano and you can teach me guitar.” 

Harry nods, his mouth still on the bottle of wine. He puts it down on the floor next to him and scoots closer to Louis. “Here,” he says, giving the guitar to Louis and grabbing his left hand, posing it over the neck of the guitar. He moves in front of Louis to better look at both him and the guitar. 

Louis can hardly focus on the guitar in his hands, too busy staring at Harry. “This is A.” Harry says softly. “And this is E.” 

“These are the basic ones, right?” Louis asks, biting his lip. 

Harry uses the hand that isn’t coaching Louis’ over the frets and pushes his own hair out of his eyes. “Yes. And it’ll be easier for you to pick up on them if you stop staring at me and actually look down at the guitar.” 

Louis laughs softly, still not casting his gaze downward. Harry meets Louis’ stare, smiling softly. “Maybe you should ask me to teach you guitar when I’m sober,” Harry says, moving the guitar from Louis’ lap and leaning against his chest instead. 

“Okay, we’ll teach each other instruments when you’re sober.” Louis affirms, rubbing Harry’s arm with a gentle hand. “Do you want to go to bed?” 

Harry shakes his head. “No, I want to talk to you. I think I should have stopped drinking awhile ago. Because we’re going to be drinking tomorrow night.” 

“Oh, yeah. The bachelor party.” Louis sighs, nodding. “Maybe we should get you in bed, then, old man.” 

Harry laughs, sitting up straight again. “Help me up. We can go to the bedroom.” 

“Okay.” Louis sighs, pushing himself up and offering his hands to Harry. “But you’re not getting any. We said we were going to wait until we were married.” 

“Yeah, but tomorrow’s only Friday and that’s the bachelor party. We’re not getting married until  _ next  _ Saturday. I don’t think I can go this whole week without getting laid. Especially because I’m going to be so stressed this week with all the last minute wedding stuff. You can’t tell me that you  _ don’t  _ want to fuck me.” 

“I always want to fuck you,” Louis replies, pulling Harry closer to him. 

Harry reaches down and palms Louis through his jeans, like he knows Louis’ already getting hard just thinking about it. “So then let’s go to bed.” 

 

Harry wakes Louis up in the morning by begging him to pick Grace up from her friend’s house so he can shower. Louis does so, and talks with Grace all about her night with her friend. When they get back to the house, Anne is already there. She’s watching Grace while Louis and Harry are out, and is spending the night because it’ll be too late for her to drive home after they get back. 

Louis leaves Grace with her Nana to go up and see how Harry’s doing. He finds him sitting on the floor by the bed, painting his nails again. “Hi, baby. You know your mum’s here?” Louis asks, sitting down next to him. Harry just nods, moving onto his next finger. “How’re you feeling this morning?” 

“I feel fine. Was just really tired when I woke up. You give me a run for my money,” Harry smiles. “Are you excited for tonight?” 

“Yes, having male strippers surround me while my fiance watches really gets me going,” Louis says sarcastically, and Harry laughs. 

“It gets me going, I know that.” Harry replies, looking over at him. “Could you put the cap on this?” 

Louis takes the nail polish from him and puts the lid on before setting it aside. Then he takes Harry’s hand and blows cool over Harry’s nails, helping them dry a little bit. “What’s on the agenda for today?” 

“Making sure everyone RSVP’d and calling anyone who didn’t. My mum’s gonna go over all the stuff for the vendors and make sure all the money is in order, because she knows that’s what stresses the two of us out the most.” 

Louis laughs, nodding in agreement before letting go of Harry’s hand. “Well, she got that right.” 

 

The day flies by in leftovers, questions about wedding preparation, and phone calls to people that haven’t replied to the wedding invite. One of them is Niall, Louis wants to kill him but he just says he forgot and Louis knows that is highly probable. 

They eat dinner before starting to get ready to go around seven, leaving the house at eight (Louis can’t even  _ believe  _ they’re going out this late, he feels  _ old).  _ Liam picks them up (he’s the DD for the night, god bless his soul) and they head right to the club, where Zayn and Niall are waiting and already drinking. 

Louis and Harry get drinks immediately, wanting to get just drunk enough before delving into the stripper-verse that they’re about to be swallowed up by. That stripper-verse comes to both of them when they’re in a booth and Liam beckons over a few strippers, who dive right into their routines. 

One of them makes himself right at home in Louis’ lap, making Louis gasp. “Oh, shit. I—” 

Harry cuts him off with just a touch, scooting closer and pushing Louis’ hair behind his ear. “He’s hot, love, yeah? Enjoy it. Let it happen.” 

The stripper’s hips began to move over Louis, his muscles flickering with each movement. Harry looks up at him with wide eyes, and the stripper smirks before looking back down at Louis. Louis lets it happen, as Harry requested. 

“You don’t look like you’re enjoying it. He’s trying to show you a good time. Pretend it’s me. I could perform for you later, too.” Harry leans in and kisses Louis’ neck. 

Louis exhales heavily, looking over at Harry. “Why don’t you rock his world for a bit?” he asks, looking back up at the man in his lap. The stripper doesn’t wait a moment before straddling Harry’s lap, threading fingers in Harry’s soft hair. Louis doesn’t like the heat that crawls up in his stomach, a mixture of jealousy and straight arousal. 

They slip a few bills in the guy’s waistband before he moves over to Zayn, and Harry jumps up, somewhat messily, and straddles Louis. He spills a bit of his drink while he kisses Louis and starts to grind against him, one of the other strippers cheering him on a bit. 

Zayn laughs quickly from across the booth before his lips are firmly against Liam’s, a stripper still in his lap. “You’re rockin’ that, aren’t you, H?” Niall muses. 

Louis laughs too, kissing Harry harder. “Wanna dance?” 

Harry nods. “Definitely. Wanna grab your arse.” 

Louis shakes his head, kissing Harry deeper once more before Harry pulls away and gets up, grabbing Louis by the hand and pulling him to his feet. Louis follows him out onto the crowded dance floor, letting Harry push against his front and run his hands down his back. “You’re so fucking hot. Watching that guy dance on you was so fucking hot,” Harry murmurs, his lips pressed against Louis’ ear so he can hear him over the pounding music. 

“Got me a little jealous,” Louis admits, turning his lips against Harry’s neck. 

Harry groans, low in his throat, squeezing Louis’ arse with both hands. “I like when you get jealous.” 

“I think it’s almost time to go.” Louis tells him. 

Harry nods in agreement, trapping Louis’ lips in a heavy kiss. They make out there, in the middle of the hot club with all those people around them, while the song changes and Louis feels that alcohol and Harry and love sink deeper into his veins. They leave after about another hour, after messy, teenage-style bathroom blowjobs that only make Louis want more. 

Liam drives, with Zayn in the front seat and Niall, Louis, and Harry in the back. Niall falls asleep, Zayn rambles, and Louis and Harry make out for the ride. “We’re here, lovebirds,” Liam announces. “Do you need me to walk you to the door or will you make it there?” 

“We’ll make it.” Harry says confidently. “Thanks, Li. Love you.” Harry leans between the seats and kisses Liam’s cheek, then Zayn’s. 

“C’mon, baby,” Louis coaxes, extending a hand for Harry’s. The cool night air hits his body and he feels like he’s sobering up already, which is probably a good thing. Harry doesn’t seem any better, this proves obvious when he knocks the key bowl over while trying to take his shoes off. 

Anne is sitting on the couch in the living room, watching TV and smiling amusedly when Harry and Louis both come in. “I can’t talk to her like this,” Harry whispers, kissing the corner of Louis’ mouth and making his way toward the stairs.

“Have a good time?” Anne asks, muting the TV. 

“Yeah, it was really nice. H is still a bit drunk, as I’m sure you can tell. Everything went alright with Grace?” 

Anne nods, watching Louis carefully as he sits down on the couch. “We made dinner, she went to bed around nine. Are you still a bit drunk as well?” 

Louis nods, laughing. “Yeah, definitely. Thank you so much for helping out with Grace tonight. And for helping with wedding stuff this week. It’s really crunch time, H is getting more stressed by the day.” 

“It’s almost over now. Is everything set with the honeymoon?” 

Louis nods, rubbing both his eyes. “Yeah. Jamaica is waiting patiently for us both.” 

“Alright. We can talk more about it tomorrow. You should go get some rest, love.” 

Louis finally lets out a yawn he didn’t even realize he was holding. “We made up the guest room earlier. I’m sure Harry already told you this, so I don’t really know why I’m saying it again. Thank you again, we really appreciate it. I should go make sure Harry’s alright.” 

He kisses Anne on the cheek before going upstairs, finding Harry sitting on the floor in the en suite. “Hey, love. You alright? Did you throw up?”

Harry shakes his head. “I was brushing my teeth, but then I got kind of tired.” 

Louis laughs. “Full disclosure, I didn’t even plan on brushing my teeth.” 

“Mhm. That’s okay. I like you when you’re dirty.” Harry murmurs. 

Louis helps him up from the floor and gets him out of his bachelor party clothes, which kind of smell like the club, and Harry crawls into bed, falling asleep almost immediately. Louis does brush his teeth before joining Harry in bed. Harry sighs contentedly, apparently not asleep, cuddling up close to Louis.

“Love you. So much,” Harry mumbles, kissing Louis’ neck lazily, like he can’t bring himself to make it to Louis’ lips. 

“I had fun tonight, H.” Louis replies, kissing Harry’s head. “I love you too.” 

The only reply that comes from Harry is a snore, making Louis smile and kiss his head again before Louis himself finally dozes off. 

 

********

 

Harry’s week flies by in a blur of wedding planning. Their last night together before they get married is Thursday, as Louis will be spending the night at Liam and Zayn’s on Friday. Can’t see a bride before her wedding day and all that. 

“I can’t believe the next time we’re in bed together is going to be when we’re married.” Harry says, kissing Louis on the lips. “It’s so crazy to me.” 

Louis nods in agreement. “Yeah, I can’t believe it either.”

“So, everything’s all in order. Our tables are set, the rehearsal dinner is tomorrow night, all the arrangements for the honeymoon have been made. My mum’s watching Grace while we’re gone…” Harry continues to rattle off all of the things that are complete, making Louis laugh at his worry. 

There’s a knock at the bedroom door, Grace making her presence known before she comes into the room. “I just wanted to say goodnight,” she says, sitting on the edge of their bed. 

“Goodnight, love.” Harry smiles at her. “You ready for the dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Of course. Are you guys?” 

“Ready as we can be,” Louis replies. 

Grace laughs, shaking her head and looking down in an attempt to hide a smile. “Good. It’s exciting.”

“You know, it’s almost been a year since you got your new heart?” Harry asks, sitting up straighter. “This time last year you were a breath away from passing out every minute.”

“That’s kind of crazy,” Grace laughs, her hand coming up to her chest, where Harry knows the big scar is from where they  _ (Louis) _ cut her open. Harry catches her touching it subtly sometimes, like she’s just reminding herself that it’s there and there’s a new heart in her chest that they hardly have to worry about. 

“I should probably go get in bed.” Grace says finally, after a moment of heavy silence between all of them. “I’ll see you guys in the morning?” 

Harry nods, pulling her in to kiss her cheek and whisper a goodnight before she says goodnight again and leaves the room. “She’s happy.” Louis points out, pulling Harry back down into him. “I’m happy she’s happy. And that you’re happy.” 

“I’m gonna miss you tomorrow night,” Harry pouts, looking up at Louis with very puppy-dog-like eyes. “I dunno what I’ll do without you here.” 

“You’ll be fine. You’ve got your mum and Grace. Me, on the other hand, I’ve got to deal with Liam and Zayn for the whole night. And I’ll be with them up until you come waltzing down the aisle like the drama queen you are.”  

“You  _ knew  _ I wanted to do the classic wedding thing even though we’re two gay men and I’m not actually wearing a wedding gown.” Harry laughs, leaning up and kissing Louis’ cheek. “What kind of kiss are you gonna go in for?” 

Louis laughs out loud, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you mean, what kind of  _ kiss  _ will I go in for?” 

“Like, what kind. Slow, fast, hard, soft. Quick.” Harry replies, propping himself up on an elbow to be closer to Louis’ face. “Because we should be on the same page. If I go for long but you go for quick, it’ll look really awkward.” 

“Um. I didn’t really plan on rehearsing our  _ you may now kiss the groom  _ kiss.” Louis says, unable to keep the amused smile from his face. 

Harry pecks him on the mouth without warning, looking proud of himself. “See? That one’s quick. And this,” he pauses, putting his mouth on Louis’, this time adding a little more tongue, “this is slow. That one could get a little hot, though.”

“I think we should do a slow one,” Louis says, cupping Harry’s cheek. 

“Of  _ course  _ you do, you dirty bastard,” Harry rolls his eyes, but leans into Louis’ touch anyway. 

Louis uses his finger on Harry’s chin to draw him in again. “I think we should practice it a little bit, though. We wouldn’t want to fuck up in front of all those people.” 

Harry’s laugh is muffled against Louis’ mouth as he presses closer, leg slotting over Louis’ thigh. Louis slides his hands up Harry’s back, feeling out every movement as Harry shifts to be more accomodating. Harry feels like he’s going a bit crazy, but hey, he’s getting married tomorrow. 

They kiss deeply, just laying there in bed, for what seems like ages. Even when they part, it’s only for a few seconds before Louis’ going in again, lips parted and tongue pushing in against Harry’s the second he gets the chance. “We should stop practicing,” Harry murmurs. Louis chases after his lips, still distracted and kiss-crazed. “We’re never going to get any sleep if we keep…” 

He trails off when Louis starts to nose around on his neck, like he’s looking for the perfect spot to sink his teeth in. Louis bites down right over where Harry’s pulse is pounding, making Harry gasp. “You’re not marking up my neck before we have to get married,” Harry says, as firmly as he can manage, shoving Louis’ head away and rolling off of him. 

“We can’t just do it one more time?” Louis whines, sounding more like a five-year-old child rather than a thirty-two-year-old surgeon. “I’ve been out of the OR for a  _ week,  _ I’m so  _ bored  _ and I’ve been around you almost nonstop and you make me so  _ horny _ ,” Louis drones, grabbing Harry by the hand and trying to pull him closer. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You only use me for sex,” he says indignantly, not looking over at Louis because he knows if he does, he’ll crumble. 

The bed dips, Louis pushing himself up. Each of Louis’ hands fall on either side of Harry’s head, kissing down the back of Harry’s neck. Harry hums, it turning into a bit of a laugh as he knows Louis gets closer to getting what he wants. 

“I don’t use you for sex.” Louis retorts. “But we’re getting married and the thought of you being my  _ husband  _ turns me on more than it should.” 

Harry’s breath hitches ridiculously. “You know that gets to me.” 

“Husband?” 

“The domestic shit,” Harry corrects, a good blanket term for what gets him going. He feels Louis press his lips over the  _ L  _ tattoo on Harry’s shoulder. “Can we get to sleep now? We always get worked up when we have big things to do the next day.” 

“But we don’t  _ really _ have anything big. It’s our last night together before we’re married. I want to fuck you. Just one more time before we have the same last name,” Louis croons, kissing Harry’s neck. 

 

The rehearsal dinner goes off without a hitch. Harry and Louis drink plenty, Harry chats with Louis’ sisters and they eat and run through the events of the following night and it all goes just fine. Afterwards, Louis and Harry stand outside the venue to say their goodbyes before they go their separate ways. 

“I can’t believe tomorrow we’re getting married,” Harry murmurs, fiddling with the collar of Louis’ button down. He keeps on trying to remind himself that this is  _ real life,  _ but it’s not working and Harry kind of feels like he’s in a dream. 

“Well, you’d better believe it, Styles.” Louis replies, kissing Harry’s cheek. “I can’t keep Liam and Zayn waiting long. You and I said our goodbyes last night, anyhow.” 

“I know. It’s not that I’m gonna like, miss you–well, I will, but.” Harry pauses, sighing frustratedly as he tries to explain what he means. He’s so fucking bad at explaining things when it really matters. Louis laughs amusedly, glancing over Harry’s shoulder at someone who’s standing there (probably Harry’s fucking mum, honestly) before looking back at Harry. “It’s only like, one night plus a few hours before I see you again. I’ll miss you being next to me in bed. But I won’t miss you like  _ oh, my heart hurts, I’ll never survive.”  _

Louis laughs again, leaning in and kissing Harry on the lips this time. “Don’t go around practicing kissing with anyone else. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t leave me at the altar, Styles, I’ll never recover from it.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “I would never dream of it.” 

“I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Louis says firmly, kissing Harry slowly one last time before he walks away without really giving Harry any time to react. 

“I love you too!” Harry calls, across the parking lot, before Grace finally grabs him by the hand and pulls him to the car. 

At home with his mum and his daughter, Harry doesn’t really know what to do with himself. He’d gotten so used to Louis already being there, or at least having the promise of Louis coming home at some point, that now Harry doesn’t really know what to do. It occurs to him that a lot of his life at this point is revolving around Louis, as if Louis were the sun and Harry a planet, and somehow that still feels  _ right.  _

After Grace goes to bed, Harry and Anne go through everything and make sure that it’s all ready to go for tomorrow so Harry doesn’t have to worry about it in the morning. Once they’ve gone over every single aspect of the wedding a hundred times, Harry collapses onto the couch and his mother laughs at him. 

“Are you nervous?” she asks, sitting at the other end of the couch. “You haven’t really said much about it, not even anything about the rehearsal dinner.” 

“It hasn’t really hit me yet, I don’t think,” Harry replies, flipping onto his back and looking over at his mother. “I’m excited mostly. I’m… glad things worked out this way.” 

“Your vows are finished?”

Harry nods. “And I hand wrote them so I can read off of the paper. They’re pretty good, if I do say so myself.” 

Anne laughs, shaking her head at him. “I can tell how much you love him, even without hearing those vows.” 

Harry sighs, tipping his head back against the back of the couch. “Yeah, I do. Wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t. It came out of nowhere, but I’ve never felt more right with anything in my life, you know? Like, I feel like I should be more afraid, I feel like I should be more alarmed with the speed we moved at, but I’m not. I don’t feel afraid. I’m confident that this is the best decision I’ll ever make.” 

 

********

 

By the time Harry’s standing in front of Louis, they’ve both already got tears in their eyes. They’re staring at each other the entire time the minister speaks, but Harry could not repeat a single word the man says until he’s prompted to read his own vows. 

“I, uh, I wrote them down to make it seem like I was a bit less of a mess,” Harry says, reaching into his jacket and pulling out the folded up piece of paper. The sun is shining down on them, warm and welcoming, and Harry can’t believe they got so lucky with such a beautiful day. 

Louis laughs at him when he makes the joke, and so does everyone else, Harry presumes, but all he hears is Louis. 

“Okay. The first day I saw you, it was in a hospital exam room and you were the miracle doctor that was going to save my daughter’s heart. You walked in and this little voice in the back of my mind told me that  _ you  _ were going to pose a big problem for me, and after you left my eleven-year-old daughter insinuated that you and I should be set up. Grace was always strides ahead of me when it came to our relationship, and often I was being whipped into shape by my daughter more frequently than, I dunno, my mum.” 

Everyone laughs, and Harry faintly hears Grace whisper about how true that is. “You were so persuasive it was only a matter of time before I let you take me out. And I let myself keep seeing you, even though you were supposed to be nothing more but the miracle surgeon for Grace. I knew when I wanted to marry you, and it was even before I heard you whisper about it to me while you thought I was asleep. I knew I wanted to marry you when we were out to dinner one night and you told me so much about you — you were so open about yourself and so open to everything about me, and I knew. Most guys — or women, for that matter — that I talked to after having Grace ran for the hills once they found out that I had a daughter. But you stayed. And that’s going to be my promise to you, to stay no matter what comes at us. Once we, you know, got it together, I never once doubted anything about our relationship. I could never dream of walking away from you. And I just…” Harry pauses, taking a shaky breath. 

Louis reaches up and wipes a tear off of Harry’s cheek. “Keep going, love. You’re really talking me up, I feel great.”

Harry laughs wetly, rubbing his eye with the hand that isn’t holding his vows. “These vows are basically an excuse for me to talk, pretty much endlessly, about how much I love you. I’m hardly sure if they make any sense, I’ve tended to write them while I was drinking. But I think what I really want to say is that I love you, I think I’ve loved you ever since the first conversation I had with you. I will love you, all the time. No matter how many dinner reservations we miss because you’re in a surgery, no matter how many taco trucks we have to eat at, no matter how many crises we go through. I will love you and… even though you were just supposed to be Grace’s miracle doctor, you kind of become  _ our  _ —  _ my  _ — miracle. And, yeah, that’s the vows.” 

Louis laughs at Harry’s finish, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re done now, my love?” 

Harry nods, exhaling heavily. “Yeah, I’m done. Ball’s in your court.” 

“I told you that I was in love with you first. That’s something very unlike me, I don’t really put myself out there first — if at all. But when I met you… telling you everything that I was thinking and everything about me felt so incredibly right. I was quick to tell you about my job and my childhood and my mum and how I felt about you because I was so insanely sure of you. Once we got it together, you were the one that said I love you first, and it didn’t even shock me. I’d been in love with you for so long at this point that I was practically bursting at the seams wanting to say it. You said it while we were laying in bed together—” 

Harry cuts Louis off against his better judgement, but feels like it’s necessary to add this: “You told me you wanted to live inside my dimples.” 

Louis ducks his head, hiding a smile and a blush, and a few people who could hear Harry’s quiet remark laugh, and Harry feels like he’s just soaking all of it up. “We were laying in bed together,” Louis continues, “and you just… said it. And I said it back and it felt like… it felt like everything in my life was leading up to that moment. It felt like every relationship and every struggle and every loss led to saying those words. You make me feel like I’m living in a fairytale, as corny and strange as that sounds. Everyday with you is an adventure, everyday with you just gets better and better and I can’t wait for the rest of our adventure together. I want to thank you, too, for trusting me and letting me into your life and into Grace’s life. For a long time I felt like I was never going to fill up all the spots in me that were ravaged by losing my mum, but then you and Grace came along and I’ve never felt more complete. I love you, I always will, and I love Grace with everything I have in me. Nothing will ever make me give this, what  _ you  _ have given me, up.” 

Harry sniffles, really embarrassed that he’s this much of an emotional wreck but also not surprised by it. “I love you,” he whispers. 

Louis smiles, mouthing the words back to him. 

The service continues on. Harry, in a very Harry-like manner, almost drops the ring as he goes to move it onto Louis’ left hand and Louis calls him an idiot and Harry can’t do anything but laugh. The words  _ you may now kiss the groom  _ hardly even leave the minister’s mouth before Harry’s on him, both hands on Louis’ cheeks and kissing him deeply. 

Louis’ laughing into it, and maybe crying a bit, so he’s making it kind of difficult to kiss him properly, but Harry knows that they’ll do that plenty later on. While everyone else is brought inside for cocktail hour, the wedding party is brought out near the pretty tree Harry picked out on their first visit here for photos. 

“I think these are kind of corny,” Louis admits at one point, but still poses for them anyway. 

Harry can tell just by the look on Louis’ face that he wishes his mum was there when Harry takes a picture with his mum, Robin, and Gemma. But then Lottie traps him in a sisters-and-big-bro picture and any look of longing or loss is wiped from Louis’ face. Louis stops his sister from walking away, says something to her that at first makes her shake her head, but then wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. Louis catches Harry’s gaze and Harry gives him a questioning look, but Louis shakes his head in a  _ don’t worry about it  _ gesture. 

“Are you any less stressed now that the hard part is over?” Anne asks, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist. 

“I don’t really think I ever was stressed. I never doubted anything.” 

“The vows were nice. Even if you were both kind of… rambling a bit.” 

Harry laughs, shrugging. “I figured that’s what we’d both be doing. It’s what we’ve  _ been  _ doing ever since we first talked to each other like that.”

“Haz, c’mere, love!” Louis calls, motioning Harry over. “Need you for one more group shot.” 

“He’s eager,” Anne notes. She releases her grip on her son and Harry starts to walk. 

“He just wants to get inside. The sooner we get there, the sooner he gets champagne,” Harry grins, then he heads over to where Louis called him from. Louis greets him with a kiss, and Harry hears the click of the camera go off in front of them. “Feels kinda invasive, doesn’t it?” 

“The camera? A bit. We’re private people, my love, but we’re going to have to deal with all the attention for tonight,” Louis says softly, brushing his fingers through Harry’s combed back hair, just above his ear. 

They  _ are _ private people, both individually and as a unit. It took Harry helplessly long to tell his own daughter and mother that he got engaged. Louis wouldn’t tell anyone close to him about Harry for the longest time. Even when people asked, either of them, their information was vague and somewhat useless to anyone who was prodding. They’re private people, just wanted to keep what they had to themselves for as long as they could. So, yeah, this whole wedding thing is a really big breach in the privacy they’re both so used to, but Harry thinks it’s endlessly worth it. 

The staged pictures wrap up and Harry and Louis finally make their way inside, preparing for their first dance. The DJ introduces them and they walk out to applause and cheers, their song choice —  _ Best That I Can  _ by Vance Joy — starts to filter through the speakers. 

“My mum thought we’d pick a different song. Ed Sheeran or something,” Harry murmurs, trying to avoid looking at the people around them. “But I think this song was fitting.” 

“We danced to it in the living room, yeah? During  _ Parenthood.  _ It’s not just some random selection,” Louis replies, smiling. It seems like the smile just hasn’t left Louis’ face. The sun is starting to set, painting the room gorgeous oranges and reds, coating Louis’ face in a warm layer of light. He looks beautiful, so fucking pretty, Harry can’t believe he gets this for the rest of time. 

“What’d you ask Lottie about?” Harry asks. Louis presses his cheek to Harry’s shoulder, humming in question. “Before you called me over for more pictures. You were talking to Lottie and then you guys hugged. What’d you say to her?” 

“Oh.” Louis picks his head up again, looking up at Harry as Vance Joy sings  _ will you keep moving on like you do  _ and pleads that he’s trying the best that he can. “I asked her if she’d dance with me while you danced with your mum.”

Harry’s stunned, to say the least. “I thought—” 

“I wasn’t going to do one. But I thought of it last night, when I had an inordinate amount of time to myself. Now, shut up and enjoy the rest of this song.” 

Harry does enjoy the song, of course he does, but he can’t stop thinking about how he’s going to dance with his mum but Louis doesn’t get to. They talked about this beforehand, and Louis decided that he  wasn’t  going to dance at all, but of course now he’s gone and switched up the plan. It’s not even like it’s a big deal, Harry just would have liked time to… plan emotionally. But, Louis is always, always keeping Harry on his toes, and this is just another one of those moments. Of course he's got to pull something at their fucking wedding. 

Their first dance finishes out, Louis kissing Harry sweetly before parting from him. Anne picked  _ Upward Over the Mountain  _ by Iron & Wine for their dance, but was a heartbeat away from picking another song about love and mountains except by Celine Dion (Anne  _ loves  _ Celine Dion, Harry’s surprised that wasn’t her pick). As the soft song begins, Harry turns them so he can watch Louis and Lottie over his mother’s shoulder, as shameful as that may sound. 

“Thought he wasn’t going to have a dance,” Anne remarks softly, looking up at Harry. 

“He wasn’t going to. He just asked Lottie while we were taking pictures after the ceremony.” Harry replies, voice just as soft. “I’m glad he did, though. Lottie asked Louis to be the one to walk her down the aisle at her wedding.” 

“I’m glad too, baby. That was a beautiful ceremony.” She tells him. Harry looks back at her, and Anne puts a hand on his cheek, tears welling up in her eyes. “Can’t believe you’re married now. I never thought I’d live to see the day.” 

“Well, neither did I,” Harry huffs out a laugh, trying to hold back tears of his own. 

When the dances are finished and guests make their way to their tables for their meals and for the round of toasts that are sure to make Harry cry, Louis finds Harry and grabs his hand, leading him to the wedding party table. “You’re giving the toast on behalf of both of us, yeah? Because I still feel like I’m about to be reduced to tears at any moment and I don’t think I could hold it together,” Harry says, looking at Louis after they’ve sat down. 

Louis laughs, then leans in and kisses him gently. “Yeah, baby, I’ll give the toast.” 

After everyone is seated, Louis stands up to deliver his little speech. “On behalf of Harry and I, and both of our families, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight to share this moment with us. In a few minutes you’re going to get a killer selection of appetizers, and I know they’re killer because Harry was the one that picked them out, but in the meantime you’ll have to listen to me.” Louis says, and Harry doesn’t think there’s a single person in the room who  _ doesn’t  _ laugh. He’s so goddamn charming.

“This is probably one of the best, if not  _ the  _ best day of my life. I waited thirty-two years for something like this to come along, and I’m so glad that it finally has, and these are the people that I’m sharing this moment with. Thank you to our families for supporting us on this… interesting journey to where we are now. And, of course, thank you to Harry, who’s now my  _ husband,  _ which feels kind of crazy to say, but it also feels insanely right. I love you, more than anything else in my life, and I’m so glad we ended up here.” 

Louis sits down beside Harry, looking over at him. Harry’s got tears in his eyes, which is unsurprising. Harry puts a hand on the back of Louis’ neck and kisses him gently. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Let’s eat some of this food you picked out, yeah?” 

 

They eat and they dance and Harry kisses Louis every single chance he gets — because he can. Everyone congratulates them and wishes them well and tells them to have fun on their honeymoon and Harry really, really struggles to believe that this is truly his life. He can’t believe that he married Louis, who was so difficult to let in because something couldn’t feel so right but be so… unethical. Once Harry started letting himself open up, Louis fit right in. So  _ right in  _ that they’re married now. 

“Hey, baby. Wanna come slow dance with me? They’re playing that dumb, old country song about not liking dancing but doing it anyway that you requested be played at some point in the evening.” Louis says, grabbing Harry’s hand. 

Harry  _ was  _ dancing with Grace, but Louis’ tugging on his arm and it’s going to be impossible for him to say no. “Grace, I’m very sorry but I’ve got to take your dad away for about three minutes. You can have him back as soon as I’m done with him.” 

Grace grins up at him, releasing Harry’s hand immediately and letting Louis take him away. “I don’t think this is a dumb country song.” Harry says thoughtfully, threading his fingers in the hair at the nape of Louis’ neck. “I think it’s sweet.” 

Louis laughs softly, leaning into Harry when he presses his lips to Louis’ cheek. “I don’t dance, but here I am, spinning you ‘round and ‘round in circles,” Harry sings softly, lips by Louis’ ear. 

Louis still thinks the song is a little corny, but it’s kind of hard to hate it when Harry’s singing it so softly, so sweetly, into his ear on their  _ wedding day.  _ Neither one of them can believe it, they’re both so awestruck. Harry kisses him on the mouth as the song ends, slow and sweet, and he pulls back with a grin. 

“I should go find Grace again. And at some point we should make the thank you rounds.” Harry says, trying to pull his head back to prevent Louis from getting to his lips again. “Stop kissing me, we’ll get plenty of time for that later.” 

“Time for that for the rest of our  _ lives,”  _ Louis says, eyes wide. Harry laughs and grants Louis one more kiss before he escapes his grasp and goes back to find Grace. 

 

The night gets danced away. Harry hardly even knows where he is for most of the night, all he knows is that he and Louis are married and he’s in love and he can’t  _ wait  _ to get in that hotel room with Louis. 

After they’ve said a farewell to all of their guests and given their family extra long goodbye hugs, Louis, Harry, Grace, and Anne all make their way out into the parking lot. “You gonna make the drive over there?” Anne asks, putting a gently hand on Harry’s cheek. 

Harry nods. “Lou’s driving, he’s good to go.” 

She smiles up and him, nodding back. “Okay, good. You have a fun time, okay? Jamaica doesn’t know what’s coming.” 

“I’m exhausted. But I’m excited. Happy. I’ve gotta say goodbye to Grace. Make sure she calls me every so often to check in, yeah? I’m gonna be so far away and I’m going to worry—” 

Anne cuts him off with a laugh. “I’ve got it, Haz. You do remember that I raised both you and your sister, don’t you? And both of you turned out alright, if I do say so myself. I can watch my granddaughter for a week while you’re away.  _ You  _ make sure that you check in with  _ me.”  _

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Okay. Thank you for everything, mum.” 

“Of course, baby,” she smiles softly, rubbing his arm. “Go find Grace and then go find your boy.” 

Harry does just that, having a long and somewhat tear-filled goodbye with Grace before meeting Louis over by their car. “Hey, baby.” Louis says, voice soft. “You good?” 

“Mhm. Ready to get in bed, though.” 

Louis laughs, opening the passenger side door for Harry. “Sleep on the way over, my love. Rest up. I’m not done with you quite yet.” 

Harry doesn’t sleep a wink for the entire car ride, even though he feels like he could really use a power nap so he can be fully conscious and involved in any celebration that Louis plans to enact. Instead, he stares at Louis a lot, because he can. Louis looks tired, like he does when he gets off a long shift at the hospital, but his eyes still hold that same life and brightness to them that they always do. He’s holding Harry’s hand, pressed against the center console and Harry’s own seat, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb while the other hand is on the steering wheel. He’s still in his nice shirt, jacket thrown somewhere in the back, sleeves cuffed up and tie loosened. He looks  _ beautiful;  _ all high cheekbones and bright eyes and cutting jaw. Harry can’t fucking believe he got this lucky. He can’t fucking believe everything worked out like this.

He really isn’t sure what humanity did to deserve someone like Louis. He really isn’t sure what  _ he  _ did to deserve Louis. 

“You alright?” Louis asks, rolling his window back up after receiving a parking pass from the automated machine. 

Harry nods, resting his chin on his hand over the center console. “I’m fine.” 

“Hope you’ve rested up. Got big plans, love. Big, big plans.” 

Harry laughs softly, leaning back against the seat. “Might have to piggy back me up to the room, I don’t think I’ll make it.” 

Louis laughs out loud, pulling into the first parking spot he sees. “No shot of me piggybacking you up to the room, darling. Come on, I’ll carry your overnight bag for you and that’ll have to be good enough.” 

They get out of the car, making their way inside to the front desk. “Hi, love.” Louis smiles warmly at the woman behind the desk. “We’ve got a reservation, should be under Tomlinson.” 

“Oh! You’ve booked the honeymoon suite! I assume you’re the two that have just been married, then?” 

“Yeah, that’s us.” Louis laughs. 

“The room is all ready, here are your keys. Someone will be down here all night if you ever need anything.” 

“Thank you so much,” Harry replies, taking the keys before Louis can. 

In the elevator, they kiss against the wall because it’s late and they’re alone and they can. “I love you so fucking much.” Louis murmurs. 

As soon as they’re in the hotel room, Harry drops face down on the bed and doesn’t entirely plan on picking his head up at all for the rest of the night. “Oh, baby.” Louis laughs softly, rubbing Harry’s back. “Are you really that tired?” 

“Yes, Lou. I’m exhausted. And, you  _ know  _ I want to fuck you, because I always do. I want to fuck you and I want you to fuck me and I’d love to just make endless, long, married love for hours tonight. But I’m so fucking tired.” 

Louis bends down, kissing his head. “I’ll go run us a bath, then. You can wash the day off.”

“Never wanna wash this day off. Was the best day of my life. Besides, like, watching Grace be born.” 

Louis laughs softly, then treks to the ensuite without saying anything else. Harry hears the tub start running and Louis comes back out a few minutes later, wearing only his tuxedo pants. He drops his shirt and jacket on the bed and puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Come on, love.” 

“Undress me.” Harry demands, rolling onto his back. Louis laughs at him, but straddles Harry’s waist and starts undoing Harry’s tie. He tosses it into the pile with his own clothes before going to work on Harry’s shirt. “Surgeon’s hands.” Harry murmurs, feeling drunk even though he’s fully sober by now. 

“Come on, love. Get up so I can take your pants off.” Louis says, standing up again. “Bath’s gonna run cold the longer you take.” 

Harry lets Louis finish taking the rest of the clothes off before walking with him to the bathroom. The water is perfectly warm (Louis’ a master when it comes to drawing baths, Harry’s discovered) and there’s a bucket of champagne sitting next to it, complimentary with the suite (Harry was very excited about that when they booked the suite). 

“Here, my love.” Louis says gently, handing Harry a flute of champagne. “Gonna let me join you in there?” 

Harry nods immediately, sitting up and leaving Louis enough room to slide in behind him. Once Louis’ in, Harry settles his back against his chest. He rests his forehead in the crook of Louis’ neck, inhaling deeply. “I love you so fucking much.” 

Louis kisses his temple, and Harry feels him break out into a grin. “I love you too, H.” 

“Sorry I’m too tired to fuck.” Harry apologizes, again, and that probably won’t even be the last time. 

“It’s quite alright, my love. We can order a pizza and get drunk off this lovely, expensive champagne, and that’s fine by me.” 

Harry laughs, taking a sip from his champagne. “No it’s not. You wanted to get laid tonight.” 

“Of course I did. But I am getting laid by you every single night for the rest of our lives, so I’m sure we’ll make up for it.” 

“The rest of our lives. I like the sound of that.” Harry hums contentedly, kissing Louis’ neck. Louis laughs softly, lips resting against Harry’s temple. “Time’s our flight?”

“Mmm.” Louis hums, thinking. “Early. But don't worry, I’ll wake you. Alarms will be set and everything, but you’ll probably sleep right through them.” 

 

In the morning, Louis has to wake Harry up. It takes a lot of scattered kisses and a blowjob, but once he’s up, Harry’s wide awake. Louis takes a shower and leaves Harry to get ready while he does, coming back out to Harry in Louis’ St. George’s tee shirt. “Where’d you find that old thing?” Louis laughs. He tries to recall seeing it in Harry’s suitcase when they’d checked each other’s packing, but he can’t. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m wearing it.” 

“Yeah, I see that. Why?” 

“D’you think people will think it’s yours?” Harry asks, making eye contact with Louis in the big mirror on the wall. 

“All the strangers in the airport and in Jamaica? Why the fuck would they think that?” 

“Hm. You’re right. Should’ve thought it through a bit more. But I’m wearing it anyway. I’ll have to wear it again, when we’re, like, around people that we know. I like… people knowing it’s yours.” 

“ _ You’re  _ mine.” Louis says, not even thinking about it as he presses up close behind Harry. 

Harry groans, eyes slipping shut in pure contentment. “I like that, too.” 

Louis drives to the airport, where they pay for twenty-four hour parking (Zayn and Liam are picking the car up so it’s not stuck there all week, and Anne and Grace are picking them up when they return) and they get through security without a hitch. In the lounge, Harry cuddles up close to Louis on the couch and yawns loudly and dramatically. “Comfy, bub?” Louis asks softly, kissing Harry’s forehead. 

Harry hums, nodding. “Just really tired. It’s so early.”

“I know. But early flights are the cheapest and we’ve got to seize the day out there in Jamaica.” 

“Mhm. Get you all to myself for a whole week. We’re gonna get so drunk, get so tan. No Grace, no surgeries, no nothing.” Harry sighs happily. “I can’t wait.” 

They get drinks on the plane, of course, Louis calls it a Jamaica Pregame and Harry laughs. They’re flying high over the ocean when the sun rises, coating the cabin in warm, yellow-orange glow. The stewardess informs them that there’s another couple of hours before they land in Atlanta for a five hour layover, which Harry will probably use to take a nap, and she asks if they want anything else to drink. Louis talks to her, thankfully, Harry’s too caught up in his own thoughts to form a sentence. 

“You good?” Louis asks, once the woman has left again. 

Harry nods, staring hard at Louis. He looks so fucking beautiful, always does, but right now even more so than ever, Harry thinks. He looks a little tired, which Harry’s used to seeing, but he looks relieved, he looks wildly happy, he looks  _ beautiful.  _ Harry’s so fucking in love with him it hurts, but Harry wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world. 

“Maybe we could wander around Atlanta for a bit, if you feel up to it. Who knows when we’ll be stateside again. We should’ve researched jet lag a bit more, figured out how to beat it.” 

Harry just hums, nods his head again. Louis laughs at him, louder than he should for such a quiet, early morning flight. But nobody says anything; the woman in the aisle across from them turns and looks at Louis but she smiles, compliments both Harry and Louis on how awake they are despite such an early morning flight and asks what they’re going to Jamaica for. Louis talks to her while Harry listens, still reveling in the warm sunlight and the light of  _ Louis.  _

Harry can’t believe he has this. He can’t believe he gets to have a healthy daughter and a husband like Louis and this beautiful, incredible life with  _ both  _ of them. They’re on their way to Jamaica for their fucking honeymoon, Louis looks tired and breaktaking in the morning sunrise and Harry gets to see that all week and every day for the rest of his life.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Louis asks, once his conversation with the woman across from them has ceased. “You seem a little spaced out. Are you drunk?” 

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “Not nearly. Just love you a lot, that’s all. I’m thinking about it.” 

Louis smiles at him, and Harry swears it’s warmer than the sun. He’ll feel this warm and this happy and this in love for the rest of time, Harry knows it. Nothing can ever take this feeling from him, nothing will ever steal nor replace the light that Louis has brought into Harry’s (and  _ Grace’s)  _ life. 

 

(They get to keep each other for a long time. Through late nights and the time Louis’ own appendix needs to be taken out. Through the adoption process, which causes more tension and joy than any party involved could ever forget. Through Grace’s first boyfriend and teaching her how to drive — which Louis’ cool dad persona comes out in full force during. Through Louis’ tenth year without his mother and through a family vacation to Disney that no one will forget.  They get to keep each other for a long time, light and love and all.) 

**i will never leave him**

**it will be this, always,**

**for as long as he will let me.**

-Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this!! there was an overwhelming cry for a sequel (by that i mean 4 people were insanely nice to me in the comment section on 'your mess is mine') and i was inspired so here we are. i hope this satisfies anyone's crave for some good feels and the end of doctor tomlinson and harry styles' forbidden yet right love story!!  
> pls leave comments and kudos if you love it, they make me feel fantastic. also feel free to tweet/follow/dm me on twitter (@allgonnamakeit_) or tumblr (alwaysbearound), i love making friends!!


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